Resistance
by Special Operative Blaire
Summary: In the land of Mobius, a skilled Freedom Fighter group must deal with traitorous Mobians while fighting to help bring peace back to thier planet. Meet...the Oakland Resistance Division,
1. Infiltration

**Hello folks, it's me, DiamondArcanine! And I present to you, my newest story on ! (For you fans of Shadows of Darkness and Critical Velocity, don't worry; those stories have not been forgotten. ;) ) Before we begin, I must stress something: Yes, the main characters are in fact, fan characters. However, rest assured that _none_ of them will.....**

**1: Be recolors of cannon characters.**

**2: Be related to cannon characters.**

**3: Be a cannon character's love interest. **

**4: Be faster then Sonic, stronger then Knuckles, etc, etc, ect.**

**Now that that's out of the way, it's time for the disclaimer:**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sonic, Sat-AM, or anything offical relating to the series. However, I do own ALL fan characters that will make an appearance in this fic.**

**And now, enjoy the fic!**

Robotropolis.

That name alone struck fear in the hearts of all Mobians, sending nightmarish, lurid visions into the very pools of their psyches. Deliriums of Mobians getting caught by SWATbots, robot hands wrapped around furry wrists, continuing with a reverie of them meeting face to face with the sinister Dr. Robotnik. They would then see the doctor's eyes staring them down, red pupils flickering in black irises, portraying a baleful, vindictive emotion within them.

Then there would be the vision of the Mobians being placed inside the roboticizer, a terrible, terrible device. The glass cylinder would slowly lower down, cutting them from off from the outside world. A lever would be pulled. Rings of blue light would slowly pass up and down the Mobian's bodies, scanning them.

And then the screams would begin.

Shrilling screams would come out of their mouths, filled with pain and agony. Pain, from the process-fur and flesh being torn off their bodies and being replaced by chromium-plated metal, electrical energy running through circuitry, substituting blood rushing through veins. Agony, from the fact that when the process was at last completed, it would mean destruction of their very free will. They would be no more than robotic shells, slaves to Robotnik's every whim.

Blaire Fields knew wll the hazards Robotropolis carried. But if the nineteen year-old Siberian Husky was afraid, she sure didn't show it. In fact, her face conveyed a sense of acute calmness and composure, almost as if she was simply walking through a tranquil forest in the winter. As she trekked across the dreary streets of the city, her blue eyes scanned the vicinity, searching for any sort of danger.

Her paws, protected by brick red leather gloves moved to the pocket of a sleeveless trench coat of a dark blue material. From the pouch, Blaire pulled out a metal tin. Her eyes still looking ahead, she opened the small receptacle's lid. Inside, it held several chocolate mints, the ultimate snack, at least in Blaire's opinion. She brought that candy inside her mouth, teeth breaking the chocolate skin, savoring the cool, sweet flavor of the half-melted mint filling.

"_Whoever created these things really knew what they were doing!" _

This whole time, the young Mobian never took her eyes off the dreary horizon in front of her. Her eyes moved from side to side, left to right, as she walked along the asphalt street. Tall structures, in shades of blue and hues of grey, littered her vision. But it was one in particular that Blaire was really focused on. Her paws reached for a pair of ebony black binoculars clipped to a loop on her blue jeans. She removed the telescoping device and brought in to her eyes, setting it on the bridge of her lavender muzzle.

"_There it is…the building where the roboticizer is located."_

The scopes rested on a rather large building. Thick, dark grey aluminum sheets formed the walls, connected together by half-rusted nails. A large steel door was located at the southern side of the structure. There were no windows, but a ventilation shaft, situated in the west wall, was large enough for a Mobian to crawl through.

Blaire, nodding silently, calmly removed her binoculars from her face. Upon clipping them back on the loop of her jeans, the canine broke into a run. She sprinted at a steady pace, dark purple boots hitting grey pavement, 'till she was a hundred feet from the building of interest. Then, keeping her back flattened against any walls nearby, Blaire silently made her way to the building. Occasionally, she would stop to look over her shoulders and make sure no one was following her. She saw several SWATbots passing by, on patrol, the dog wagered, but not one of them sighted her.

Finally, her back was touching the south wall of the edifice, right besides the door. Blaire took a deep breath to ready herself for what she was about to do next. She grabbed a black p250 SIG SAUER from inside her trench coat, took a clip of ammo from the chest pocket of her sleeveless red shirt, and placed it inside the gun. The canine cocked the SIG and held it raised to the side with one hand, arms bent at the elbows. With her other hand, Blaire knocked on the steel entrance of the building.

"_Okay, I'm going in!"_

The door rose up, like that on a garage, revealing a tall SWATbot. It took one look, just a passing glance at Blaire, and began firing on the purple-furred husky. Salvos of lasers filled the area, neon blue lights capable of slicing through steel. Blaire deftly dodged the beams, for her reflexes were as sharp as needles, the complete opposite of her rather low defense. She duck, weaved, rolled, and jumped her way to the roboticizer. The humanoid robot again aimed a laser-laden wrist at the dog. It didn't have a chance to fire however, for a bullet from Blaire's SIG tore through the neck, taking off the android's head. The dome-shaped cranium hit the metal floor with a reverberating clank. The young dog sauntered over to the head and slid it away from her path with the side of her boot, the chromium scrapping the steel terrazzo in the process.

Blaire approached the roboticizer, her eyes meeting that of a group of Mobians standing nearby. Relief gleamed in their eyes, accepting the fact that they had another chance to keep their free will and normal bodies. The Siberian Husky could see the emotional respite clear as day. With a nod in their general direction, she turned her handgun toward a control panel and fired two shots at it. Each bullet hit its mark, leaving a smoking hole in its wake.

"You all are free to go," Blaire declared with a smile.

"How can we ever thank you?" asked a red ferret.

"No need to. The relief on your faces gives all the thanks I need."

"Please, tell us your name at least," a grey hedgehog wanted to know.

"Agent Blaire Fields."

"Are you one of those 'freedom fighters' we've heard about?" inquired a green rabbit.

"You could call me that."

"What group?" a yellow cat questioned.

Blaire had turned to walk back to where she had come from, when that question reached her ears. She paused for a moment, and smirked slightly as she turned her head back to the group.

"The Oakland Resistance Division."

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The group of Mobians freed, Blaire could return home. Silently, dark blue trench coat pressing against grey and blue parapets, the Siberian Husky stealthily tried to make her way out of Robotropolis. Her eyes scanned the horizon, those black pupils following the cerulean irises. Her feet stepped out from side to side, in a shuffling movement. Closer, she crept, knowing well that with each step she'd be ever closer to the outside of Robotropolis.

Blaire's ears twitched back when they picked up the sound of clanking footsteps coming her way. She flattened her back more and slowed down her shuffle to a snail's pace. She was quiet, but still calm, her face betraying no alarm. After five years of dealing with danger like the SWATbots that were approaching her, the purple-furred canine was used to situations like this.

When she at last got to the end of a wall-to her it felt like several minutes at the pace she was going-Blaire took this moment to see if the danger had passed. The sounds of SWATbot footsteps had grown softer, more subdued, then when she had first heard them.

"_Now, let's see if that patrol is leaving…"_

It wasn't.

Only when she peered behind that wall, head half hidden by that dull navy tone, did Blaire learn the truth. The footsteps had only quieted because the perambulation had been stopping. Those humanoid robots had reached their post, halting when they did so. Blaire shook her head in annoyance. To get out of Robotropolis-and later back home-the dog would have to sneak though a narrow alley. The problem with this was that Robotnik had programmed the SWATbots in a way that when they stopped for a daily patrol, they blocked the alleyway's exit.

"_Great…"_

Blaire would have deeply sighed that very moment had the SWATbots not been so close to her. Instead, the young Mobian opted simply to roll her eyes, those twin irises and pupils forming a tight circle. The only way to get out of this dismal metropolis and a bunch of robots-all of them sporting the same exact design, each automaton possessing a monotonous appearance-were blocking the egress.

Blaire knew very well that she would not be able to sneak past those SWATbots. The line was so tightly packed that she couldn't slip past them and even if she could, they were bound to spot her anyway. So, she would have to use another means to get past them.

She would have to fight.

" _Luckily for me, an O.R.D Agent is always prepared."_

While in thought, Blaire's gloved paw reached for a dark navy hilt sticking out of a black scabbard. Slowly, she pulled out a weapon she favored over her 250 SIG SAUER, very much so, in fact. It was a specially designed saber. The blade was made of burnished cerulean-colored steel, dyed that way by an accomplished blacksmith. If the numerous thick smog clouds had not blocked it, the sword would have gleamed in the sunlight.

It was a simple sword, but one of Blaire's most prized possessions.

"_My trusty Sapphire Blade. I hope it serves me well again,"_

Blaire cleared her throat, before approaching the SWATbots. As she walked, a slight wave of anxiety washed over her body, her purple fur ruffled with nervousness. She knew she was outnumbered, and she knew that all any one of them had to do to defeat her would be to fire a laser through certain parts of her body. Not only that, but one of her weakness-which ran from the fact that the Siberian Husky's fighting skills sharply declined in those overbearingly hot temperatures to her being unable to use the Cyrokinesis she had been gifted with since her childhood when the temperature was more than thirty-two degrees Fahrenheit-was that she had relatively low defense. Just a few strong blows during a battle, and Blaire would be declared defeated.

"_This'll be a tough fight, but I think everything will work out in the end." _

The Siberian Husky, saber in hand, steadily strolled on over to the column of SWATbots.

"Sorry to break up your procession, but I believe you are all in my way," Blaire pointed out, effectively gathering the attention of the dark blue androids. In unison, they turned in the direction of the purple-furred Mobian and raised their laser-laden wrists at her, aiming for spots that could either cause serious injury or even death if they hit.

"_**Intruder Alert! Detain by order of Robotnik!" **_came a dozen digitized voices. Soon, the SWATbots commenced with the beams, and the battle began.

Blaire took care of the first of around a dozen SWATbots relatively easy. She sprang into the air, avoiding the carving fluorescent blue lights in the process. As she came down, she sighted a robot out of the corner of her eyes. Her Sapphire Blade outstretched, the young dog twisted her body around a total of three times. The first slice cut off a good chunk of the automaton's shoulder. The second, sliced a chip out of the robotic soldier's head. Finally, the third slash severed through some of the wires and circuits controlling the SWATbot. With this final blow, the android fell to the tarmac in a metallic heap, the chrome parts clanging against each other in the process.

After she eliminated the first SWATbot however, Blaire was put into quite a difficult situation. When she landed, the Siberian Husky quickly found out that she was right in the middle of an onslaught of lasers.

"Oh shoot…" she managed to mutter through gritted teeth, her ears flat on the back of her head as she nervously looked around the battle scene. A neon blue laser moved behind the dog, aiming at the back of her head. Blaire barely managed to duck underneath the beam, after her ears picked up its telltale hum.

"I was right…this is not going to be easy."

A wave of lasers fired from the wrists of the eleven still able SWATbots. Blaire had to perform several maneuvers, barely dodging some of the attacks as they came after her. She jumped, ducked, sidestepped, weaved, and even somersaulted out of harm's way. At one point, Blaire leapt to her feet after rolling to avoid several beams. She turned on her heels once, her sword carried low as the blade sliced off the right leg of the nearest SWATbot. As the robot fell, however, it managed to fire one last laser. The hum of the fluorescent cerulean beam was picked up by Blaire's ears. She turned her body to see the ray coming behind her-

A second later and she would have felt a rush of searing white hot pain materializing from her left shoulder.

Blaire cried out in as she tripped and fell to her knees. Sweat rolled of her brow as her breath came in quick, shallow gasps, the husky's body quivering as she tried to regain her composure.

"_Calm down Blaire…calm down...It could have been worse…they could have aimed for…my heart…"_

Her collect demeanor returning little by little, Blaire returned to the matter at hand. Getting past those SWATbots. Soon, her ears picked up the hum of a number of rays behind her. Like lightning, the dog turned her head to see flashes of blue behind her. She gasped once, her eyes wide as she scrambled to her feet. The canine backed up several feet, before turning around and sprinting out of the alley.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Blaire ran across Robotropolis, her boots pounding against the jet black pavement of the conurbation's streets. Constantly, she glanced over her shoulders to make sure not one of Robotnik's robots was following her. Blaire's feet ached as she loped, but she paid it no heed to the pain she felt-all she was concerned about was getting out of the city before anymore lasers hit her. Sweat poured off the Siberian Husky, splashing onto the ground below.

"_Keep going Blaire, keep going! Just a couple hundred more feet and I'll be out of Robotropolis. And then…I can relax. For the most part," _the purple-furred husky thought, remembering that beyond the city lay another threat.

Still, Blaire ran on, her lungs burning as the metropolis's egress became closer to her range of vision. A hundred feet, seventy-five feet, fifty, twenty-five, ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two… That final step was like a breath of fresh air, a huge relief, the light of hope to one Blaire Fields. Almost immediately after crossing the border the separated Robotropolis from the grasslands, the Siberian Husky collapsed to her hands and knees. Her lungs were practically crying out for air, as the canine gasped for breath.

"_Whew! Talk about a close call. That'll teach me to jump in the middle of a bunch of SWATbot laser fire!"_

When Blaire had finally had a chance to catch her breath, she slowly stood up. Her eyes set on the horizon, the dog began to walk towards the south, the direction of her home. Before she took that step however, she turned around and looked back at Robotropolis. Or more specifically, a pile of rubble on its southern outskirts.

Grey bricks, weathered several places by erosion-the stale winds that blew through the city, the acid rain pelting the ground, and the general day-to-day pollution-made up the bulk of the mound. Shards of broken glass, once forming whole and lustrous objects, were now dull with a fine film of dust on nearly each portion. This seemingly unimportant pile of rubbish had once been worth something to one Blaire Fields. She had passed by this area several times during her years as an Oakland Resistance Division Agent, and the very sight of it never failed to bring her back. Back to a time when unlimited happiness existed. A time when a Mobian wasn't in constant fear of their lives and free will. A time…when the future looked bright.

Blaire sighed deeply at the sight. Her ears hung low in sadness and the sight she was seeing hurt more than a laser-induced wound ever would. The canine swallowed hard and looked away, not wanting to see any more. Finally, after taking a deep breath which brought her head up, the husky resumed walking, her trench coat billowing lightly behind her……………………………………………… ……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Eventually, after several minutes of hiking through a grassy plain, those blue eyes of Blaire's caught sight of a cluster of several large oak trees. The dog smiled when she noticed the familiar vista.

"Oakland Village. Home sweet home." the canine said to herself, as she headed to the eastern part of the town.

Oakland Village lived up to its name. The entire town was encircled by rather large oak trees. This flora was also responsible for keeping the community hidden from Robotnik and other potential threats of similar nature. Even after all these years-over ten since the sinister doctor took over the capital city known as Mobotropolis. The village itself was home to many species of Mobians, from hedgehogs to foxes, living in small chalets built from sturdy logs. Unlike a certain place know as Knothole Village, Oakland was not originally meant to be refuge during times of crisis. It was simply just a community, many of its residences having lived there before the coup d'état.

Eventually, Blaire found herself near a circle of oaks. In the middle, there was a large, thin stone slab. The Siberian Husky turned to a cluster of vines hanging from one of the large trees. She clutched one of the lianas, and pulled it down in a westward diagonal motion. As she performed this action, Blaire noticed the slab moving, revealing a gaping hole. Limestone steps lead down into the hollow cavity. Silently, the purple-furred Mobian walked down the staircase-into the Oakland Resistance Division headquarters.

Blaire walked through the front area of the headquarters, making her way to the room her team stayed in. The O.R.D center of operations was a bit on the technical side, the result of the refurnishing technological parts that they collected from Robotroplis's junk piles. While not nearly as hi-tech as the dreary city itself, the Resistance Division did have some nice technological equipment. Computers were common around the base, connected to power outlets with the electricity made by large generators located in a sizable room.

"_Well, I might have had a few rough moments, but I'm proud to say this whole thing was a success."_

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

"Drake, do you have those roasted nuts I asked for?" came a voice from one end of a large room. A sea green-furred Alpine Chipmunk looked over his shoulders as a Bengal Tiger entered the room, carrying a brown paper sack.

Without saying a word, Agent Drake McStrype set down the sack onto a well-sanded wooden table. Just as silently, he opened the bag, and pulled out a much smaller container. Still not speaking, but with a smile on his furry white muzzle, the tiger handed it to the chipmunk.

"Thanks Drake!"

"Don't mention it, Chester," the red-striped cat said, taking out another container, this one with the telltale scent of spaghetti emitting from the inside.

Chester Chipston, an agent just like Drake, eagerly opened the container in his hands, taking in the aroma of freshly roasted nuts. He looked at the contents of the sack, ready to scoop up a big pawful of the edible delights. But when he looked inside…

"Wait a minute, there are pecans in here!"

Confused, Drake McStrype lifted his head to look the chipmunk in the eye. "So? They're nuts. I don't see the difference."

"Well, I don't like pecans. Pecans taste terrible, and the husks stain my fur brown and black. Those stains are impossible to get out by washing and they take two weeks to wear out. Two whole weeks!" the Alpine Chipmunk complained.

Drake shook his head. "Like I said, they're just nuts. Besides, you have gloves on," the tiger stated, glancing at the fingerless gloves Chester was currently wearing, the leather a dark burgundy.

"The husks will stain my gloves too. Nothing helps. Unless you know where I can find some disposable rubber gloves that is."

"Nope," the yellow-furred tiger said simply, digging a fork into his spaghetti.

"Even if you did, that wouldn't improve the taste. Ugh, how I hate the taste of pecans."

Drake silently shrugged, not understanding what the big deal was. There were certain kinds of pastas and meats he didn't like, but that didn't mean he complained about it if he was served them. Of course, being a tiger who liked to keep to himself, he didn't really complain in general unless something was really annoying him. With a connected sigh, he leaned back on his chair and continued eating. Meanwhile, a grimacing Chester was busily picking out the pecans, grabbing them with the very tips of his fingers.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Calmly, a pack of chocolate mints in her paws, Blaire continued to make her way through the O.R.D base. By this time, she had found herself in the teams' quarters. The garrisons were made up of several hallways, each marked by a single letter of the alphabet on wooden tablets set off to the side. A group of numbers would follow shortly after. Blaire had decided to turn into the final of the 'K' halls, when a familiar voice beckoned her.

"Hey Blaire, how'd your mission go?"

The canine looked ahead to see a Timber Wolf around her age. "Hey Aurora," she answered. "It went well. I saved some Mobians from Robotization, however, I almost didn't make it back in one piece. " the dog said the last part of her statement in an uneasy tone of voice

Aurora Lunetane cringed in response. "Eesh. Let me guess, SWATbots?"

The Siberian Husky nodded. "Yep, one almost got me right in the shoulder."

"Ouch."

"Exactly," Blaire began. "So, how did everything go while I was gone?" the canine asked, arms crossed over her chest, and a grin on her lavender muzzle.

"Things went very well," the Timber Wolf answered, crossing arms with paws protected by purple gloves over one green T-Shirt and a red buttoned-up vest. "Drake went out to get us some food. He should be back by now."

"Good job Aurora," the purple-furred Mobian said with a smile, her paw on her best friend's shoulders. "I knew I could count on my second-in-command."

The pastel blue canine chuckled a bit as she ran her paws over her ears. "Well, I really didn't have to do much, but thanks anyway Blaire. Come on, Drake and Chester are probably wondering what happened to me."

"Very well, Aurora. Let's go," the Siberian Husky said, resuming her walk, the Timber Wolf besides her. The dog led her best friend over to a wooden door. Nailed securely in the center was a plaque reading 'K-87', the team that Blaire led. The dog rapped on that finely sanded lumber, trying to get the attention of the tiger and the chipmunk inside.

Drake's ears perked up at the sound of someone knocking on the door. Without saying a word, the yellow furred cat got up from his dinner. A pair of paws covered by dark blue gloves, twin green stripes running down from the cuffs, adjusted the collar of his dark green jacket as he walked up to the entrance. Once he got there, his strong paws clutched the handle, twisting it once. He pulled back, opening the door. Smiling when he saw the two canines, Drake politely gestured them both inside with a wave of his paw.

"Thanks Drake," Blaire said to the team's Espionage Agent, a smile etched on her furry lavender muzzle as she and Aurora stepped inside.

The pastel blue-furred Timber Wolf ambled over to the team's Chief of Electronics, Chester Chipston. She had noticed the pile of pecans besides a brown paper sack that the Alpine Chipmunk was eating other kinds of nuts out of. A slight grimace was present on the green Mobian's face as he ate, chewing those edible nuts slowly.

"Order gone wrong again, Chester?"

The chipmunk sighed in response before speaking. "What part of 'no pecans' do they not understand? Unless Drake forgot to-"

The Bengal Tiger in question seemed to be able to read the mind of one Chester Chipston. In reality, he could do no such thing. However, it was in some way understandable how one could think that by what the cat said next.

"No I did not forget to remind the clerk."

Chester blinked once, unable to respond at first. Finally, he began to speak. "Then why is my order wrong?" Shaking his paw rapidly, he added, "Oh don't get me wrong, I believe you buddy. But still, when you tell someone that you don't want anything, you'd think they'd realize you don't want it."

Blaire, who had been leaning casually against the wall during this conversation, arms crossed over her chest, shrugged her shoulders. "I don't understand it either Chester. Though I think you should just learn to deal with it. After all, it's not like someone from the Division betrayed us or anything." the dog shuddered at the thought. "Eeesh, now that's something _no one _would want to go through."

All at once, the resonance of a strong paw rapping on the wooden door sounded out inside the underground room. With a rather contented sigh, Blaire stood up and walked up to the entrance, the knocking continuing. She grasped the knob and twisted it around. When she opened the door, she almost froze when she found out who had been knocking.

A tall, strongly-built Golden Retriever stood in front of the Siberian Husky. His black suit was well-kept and not a sliver of a wrinkle appeared on it. Those ebony boots of his were polished to a fine sheen. His gold fur looked smooth and very little of it was out of place on his body. His green eyes told of someone who was compassionate, yet at the same time as firm as the very walls of this base.

"Director Retroden!" The red-gloved right paw of Agent Blaire Fields moved up to her purple-furred forehead. Her paw pushed up against her brow, flat and carried at a slight angle. A respectful salute from one dog to another. Her hand soon slid off her brow, coming to a stop at her side as she spoke to the golden-furred canine.

"Is there anything you'd like for us to do, sir?" Blaire asked, her posture straight, hands hanging at her sides-not limply of course, but a bit on the stiff side.

"As a matter of fact, there is," Director Alan Retroden stated. "I need you and your team to infiltrate the Klawzax Unit headquarters. They've been a little slow these past few days, leading me to believe that they have been planning something behind our backs. I need you to confirm this theory, and if need be, stop them before they have a chance to carry out their schemes."

Blaire saluted him again. "We will do our best, Director."

"Very well then. Good luck to you and your team," Retroden said with a nod. Slowly, he turned around and strolled off, off to visit with other agents and their teams.

"Was that…who I thought it was?" that was the question asked by one Aurora Lunetane. Her sharp hearing had caught every detail of the conversation between the two dogs.

"That it was. Director Alan Retroden," said Blaire with a nod of her head. The husky turned to the other two members of her team and addressed them , along with the Timber Wolf in front of her. "Guys, we have been given an important assignment. The Director believes that the Klawzax Unit is planning some kind of sneaky little scam. And it's up to us to find out what it is-"

"-And stop it before it starts," finished Chester.

"Very good Chester," Blaire said with a grin. "You're catching on."

The Alpine Chipmunk shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, his orange vest pulling up in the process. "It was nothing really. That's what we have to do every time we're asked to gather information on a future plan of the Klawzax Unit's."

"In any case," Blaire began. "Grab your gear, we have an infiltration to stage."

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

The Klawzax Unit was an organization not unlike that of the Oakland Resistance Division-except for one major difference. Formed several years after the take-over of Mobotropolis, the Unit did not try to resist the iron tenet of Dr. Robotnik. No, just the opposite-the group _[i]supported[/i]_ what the sinister dictator was doing. Most of the members were convinced that fighting against Robotnik was the wrong thing to do- that it would not yield victory for the Mobians.

This caused problems between the Unit and other Mobians, most notable the Resistance Division. Anyone caught assisting the Klawzax Unit, unless they were known double agents working for the O.R.D or a similar resistance group, were assumed traitors. The Unit also considered anyone against them their enemies, sometimes killing those who opposed them-including O.R.D agents.

Their base lay underneath the ground-in-between Oakland Village and Robotropolis. Usually, there were around a trio of Klawzax Agents guarding the outside of the base. For the past few days however, things had been a little slower around the environs of the headquarters. Sometimes, there weren't [i]_any[/i] _agents acting as guards. One such time was earlier that day, when Blaire was returning from Robotropolis. Going _to_ the city, the canine had to deal with a couple of those traitorous Mobians. But coming _back_ from the conurbation, there were no Unit agents to slow her down.

Team K-87 hiked to the subversive base of the Klawzax Unit in complete silence, each of the four Mobians contemplating about the upcoming mission. Their faces were blank as they walked, hiding their true feelings. Feelings ranging from enthusiasm, all the way down to consternation on the other side of the emotional spectrum. Finally, the silence was broken by none other than one Chester Chipston.

"I will never understand."

Aurora couldn't help but ask, "Understand what? How anyone could support someone like Robotnik?"

The Alpine Chipmunk gave a short nod to his head. "You are exactly correct."

Drake's paw brushed against his round ears as he spoke. "Man, what were those Mobians thinking when they formed the Klawzax Unit?"

"Why don't you ask them? Or, you could read their minds," Chester said, remembering an earlier event from the day. "And ya wouldn't even need a bookmark to do it," the eighteen year-old chipmunk next to Drake inquired, in an attempt to add a bit of humor. A bit of dry humor that is, dry as a skeleton that had been lying in the desert for months on end. The sea green Mobian looked back at his friends, hoping to see them at least crack some smiles. Instead, he got a trio of raised eyebrows, a duo of crossed arms, and one pair of paws on hips.

Chester sighed deeply, as he turned his back on his fellow team mates. "_Hmph! No sense of humor at all…_

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The room had all the makings of one very high up in the rankings-the rankings of the Klawzax Unit, that is. The walls of the underground area had been carved into an almost perfect square, the opposite of the bowl-shaped rooms the majority of the base boasted. Silver trimmings stood in the corners, polished to a fine luster. A wooden self sat against the western part of the room, loose sheets of paper crammed inside. A wood desk stood off center, a Red Fox sitting at it.

The vulpine was busying herself, her green eyes looking over several documents. Her chin rested on the white gloved paw of her left paw, while the fingers of her right tapped the desk in sheer boredom. With a sigh, the red-furred Mobian adjusted her glasses-her eyesight had been slightly damaged during an extremely rigorous fight with an O.R.D agent. The vixen had eventually won the battle, but at a small cost-she could not perform any close-up work with some form of corrective lenses. However, this did not affect her fighting skills in the least.

"Scarlett Cyphon?"

Upon hearing her name spoken, the Red Fox lifted her head up, a glare on her face. In front of her was a Mobian rabbit, his fur a rusty brown hue. With a scowl on her white muzzle, the vixen stood up, removed her glasses, placed them on the desk, and silently approached the lagomorph.

"That's _Lieutenant _Scarlett Cyphon to you, pal."

"Y-yes, sorry about that, Lieutenant," the rabbit stuttered, his tone betraying complete nervousness. "I…must have…forgotten."

Scarlett gave a soft growl upon hearing that last word, a burning fire of sheer rage flickering within her eyes. Her shoulders-covered by a dark blue sweater and long black coat- tensed up, and her fist became tightly balled. The fox stood, her posture stock still and straight-it was almost like someone had sprayed a giant aerosol can full of starch over her body.

"You…'_forgot?'" _

Before, the rabbit was just nervous. Now, he was _petrified_ with fear. He could feel his russet fur bristling, like he had just been the unfortunate victim of a lightning bolt. The Mobian shivered in terror-and dismay. Dismay resulting in him saying the wrong thing.

"You…_**forgot**_?"

How, oh how, could he have been so _foolish_?! He should have known that Scarlett had a temper almost akin to that of a volcano just about to erupt. That fox was not one you would want to get angry.

And he realized, that he had made a imprudent, and possibly even _fatal_ mistake.

"Um…S-Lieutenant? I didn't mean it in that way. I was just...It was a spur of the moment thing. I'm sure you've had those before, right? Right?"

Scarlett said naught a word. Instead, her body still stiff, she turned around and headed for the southern wall of her room-the very one the rabbit had hoped she would ignore. Her eyes still full of ire, the vixen approached two wooden prongs sticking out of the dirt wall. Sitting on these tines was a sword-a longsword, to be more specific. Its polished blade was a steel grey, and the hilt an ebony black. This weapon represented Scarlett's main mode of combat-parlay. Sword fighting.

When he saw the fox pick up that sword, his ears straightened up, and his eyes were on the verge of bulging out of their sockets. This was a bad omen. The lagomorph cursed himself for what he had done.

He should not have been so hasty. He should have waited for a bit before coming to speak with Scarlett. He could have used a few minutes to think of something to say to the vulpine that would have spared him his life. But now…there was nothing he could do. For Scarlett was merciless, and when she those paws of hers took hold of her longsword's hilt, she meant business.

The rabbit knew what came next. But as he resigned himself to his fate, his one wish was that this was just a horrible nightmare, a bad reverie that he soon awaken from. He swallowed a lump that had gathered in his throat and shut tight those brown eyes of his. He did not want to see that blade coming for him.

But when it did, it was not how he expected.

Instead of the blade cutting through his skin, the rabbit felt cold steel touch his chin. Cold steel from the flat part of Scarlett's longsword. The lagomorphs felt his head being lifted up. Though he tried to keep his eyes shut, it was like some sort of mystical energy was forcing them open. And open them he did, finding himself looking straight into the eyes of one Scarlett Cyphon.

"Listen here, Agent Rusty. You should consider yourself lucky I'm keeping you alive." Scarlett snarled, a malicious smirk crossing her muzzle.

"You-you are?" Rusty asked, shocked, yet relieved beyond compare.

"Why yes. But only because I know you have something you need to tell me."

"How'd you know that?"

"Please Rusty, you can't be so foolish as to just barge into my room without some sort of reason. Actually, since you forgot to address me properly, maybe you are."

The rabbit trembled lightly, a lump gathering in his throat.

"Now, what is it you want to tell me?" Scarlett inquired.

"The boss wants to see you," Rusty said flatly, ears hanging low.

"Very well then." The fox slowly removed the sword's blade from the underside of the rabbit's chin as she straightened up. A sneer on her face, the vulpine placed her weapon of choice inside the scabbard hanging off the side of her black jeans. Running her fingers through the red fur atop her head, Scarlett sighed deeply. "_Raxton's going to have my head if I just so happen to be late. If that Rusty wasn't such a fool…"_

A soft growl emitting from her throat, the Red Fox slowly turned away from the brown-furred Mobian. Silently, she walked out of her room, her tail swinging from side to side. As she left, the vulpine failed to notice that Rusty let out the most relieved sigh he had ever released.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

The personal lair of Raxton Klawzax was even more impressive-looking then Scarlett's. And why wouldn't it? After all, Raxton _was_ the leader of the Klawzax Unit, hence its name. This room too, was a perfect square, meticulously carved in the ground during months of hard labor. Gold embellishments rested in the corners, symbolizing the cougar's status. Shelves, the wood neatly sanded to a smooth and fine finish, had been placed against the walls. Lined within them, were several volumes of thick books, as well as stacks of papers, and documents. Standing near the right corner was a desk made of sturdy white pine. A lacquer coating had been painted on the surface, giving it a polished look.

The orange-furred cougar sat behind the desk, just as Scarlett had done before. However, he wasn't looking over some old documents. No, he was waiting for someone. The sinister cat sat in his chair, posture upright. His paws, covered by gloves of red and black, rested on the top of the desk, right on left.

A knock on the door captured Raxton's attention. In a deep voice, full of authority, he spoke.

"Come in."

The doorknob twisted once, and then Scarlett slowly forced it open. The red-furred Mobian stepped though the wood frame separating the hallway from Raxton's personal lair, a half-way innocent look on her face.

"Why, hello sir. I know what this might look like, but I can explain," the vixen began. "You see, I was in my room, looking over some documents, when Agent Rusty barged in, and-"

"Lieutenant Scarlett." Raxton boomed as he stood up, cutting her off. "Come here." The baleful cougar swept his arm around, stopping with his open palm facing the front of his desk.

The vulpine nodded, her shoulders tense with slight, but only slight, worry, and marched up to her superior. As soon as she halted, the fox's body became as stiff as a board nailed into the floor. Like lightning, Scarlett's right paw shifted upwards, until the edge was touching her forehead. She closed shut those eyes of hers, and placed her left paw behind the small of her back. This was the salute all Unit agents were required to give to Raxton.

The orange-furred feline gave a nod of approval in Scarlett's direction. "Alleviate, Lieutenant." he said, giving permission for the red-furred Mobian to relax.

Scarlett opened her eyes, as she brought her arms down to her sides. "What is it you want with me, sir?"

"It's about our latest assignment," Raxton explained. "As you know, we have come up with a way to bring a few Oakland Resistance Division Agents on our side."

"Yes sir. And might I add that it's a brilliant plan?" Scarlett grin wickedly, her paws clasped behind her back.

"You may," Raxton answered, a grin even more decadent and baleful then the fox's crossing his light brown-furred muzzle. He then leaned over, his right index finger tapping the top of his pine-wood desk. "I have a feeling that the O.R.D has realized that we have been plotting our latest scheme. If that's the case, then Director Allen Retroden will send a team of agents here, if he hasn't already."

"Ah," Scarlett began, realizing what her senior was getting at. "And you want me to…" he paw reached for her sword, grasping the black pommel hilt. A wicked smirk on her face, she pulled the weapon out of its scabbard, and held it in front of her face. As she ran her middle and index fingers up and down the grey steel of the blade, she finished her query. "…obliterate them, correct?"

The toothy grin on Raxton's face was so baleful, so malicious, that it would have froze the blood of weaker-willed Mobians. "Precisely."

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The lair of the Klawzax Unit was of similar build of the O.R.D's headquarters. This similarity lied mostly in the technological systems they used-like the Division, the Unit too had a few computers here and there. And like the Division, they got this technology from refurnished systems that were originally from Robotropolis.

Blaire and her team silently skulked through the dissident lair, their backs against the red clay wall. Eyes and ears open, the quartet of Mobians both looked and listened for the sights and sounds of danger. And danger in the Klawzax Unit headquarters was almost as common as that in Robotropolis. However, instead of humanoid robotic soldiers patrolling the area, flesh and blood Mobians made up the traitorous army.

"Well…so far, so good," Chester softly commented, pointing out the fact that they hadn't yet been spotted.

"True, but no one is to keep their guard down. The whole mission could be jeopardized if anyone sees us," Blaire reminded, her voice barely a whisper.

"_I hate the lack of sound here_," Aurora thought to herself, growing slightly uncomfortable with all the silence around her. As someone who was quite a talker, and music fan, the Timber Wolf relished in chatter and other such noises. But the only sounds she had heard were those of footsteps-definitely Unit agents, the wolf figured out-and the sound of Chester and Blaire's voices. However, Aurora knew now was not the time to complain about something like this. The team had a mission to complete, and there was no way this wolf would let her dislike of silence keep her from doing her job.

Thus, it was not Aurora who acted as the catalyst for the first quandary the team would find themselves in. That unfortunate distinction belonged to a certain Alpine Chipmunk known as Chester Chipston.

The sea green-furred Mobian had simply been slinking along, keeping his back flattened to the wall just like his friends were doing. His eyes were glued to the sight in front of him, Drake McStrype that is. However, he would later think that he should have glanced for a moment at the floor below him. For at that moment, the chipmunk's left boot-one of red leather, a green stripe running down the center, with two grey straps holding it in place-moved into a crack in the ground.

All at once, Chester found himself stumbling around, trying to keep his balance. His efforts, were futile. He ended up tripping, falling face first onto Drake, who in turn tumbled into Aurora, said wolf falling onto Blaire, thereby completing this chain of Mobian dominoes. Screams and grunts could be heard from the four as they slammed into each other.

With a groan, Blaire crawled out of the pile of Mobians she was at the bottom of. She then turned to Chester, a bit of anger glowing in her eyes. "Chester…," she began, placing a paw on her hip. "Could you perchance, watch where you're going?"

"Maybe you should watch your mouth, husky. It's not a good idea for a trespasser to be so loud while they're invading our base."

Upon hearing that voice, Blaire's head jerked to the front. Standing there, a rifle in hand, was a red squirrel, his smile almost psychotic.

"What do you want?" Blaire asked the Unit agent as she rose into a standing position, crossing her arms soon after.

"What do you think? There are only two options. You could either come to your senses and join us. Or, I could put around through each of your hearts. Your choices."

Blaire gave a simple 'heh' as she considered her options. "Let's see here, do I want to join a cult that supports someone who ruins the lives and wills of Mobians? Or, do I want a nine millimeter hole in my chest? Hmmm…neither, thank you very much. I prefer to go with choice number three."

When he heard that statement, the squirrel became quite confused. "Choice number three?" he inquired, squinting his right eye almost shut, his head tilted the left. "There's no choice number three!"

"That's what you think," came the voice of one Drake McStrype, as he raised his gun, a black metallic revolver christened the 'Ocearine Revolver. This firearm was a little different than a typical weapon of its class, as it could shoot at total of seven bullets-instead of the usual six-before needing to be reloaded.

When he saw the gun being raised, the squirrel began to get rather nervous-internally. Externally, he didn't look the least bit worried. "Do you really think that little pistol has a chance against this high-ranged rifle?" he asked the Bengal Tiger.

"As a matter of fact…," Drake stopped in mid-sentence and pulled the trigger on his revolver, a navy blue bullet flying out of the barrel. The squirrel had almost no time to react before the projectile tore through his carotid artery. He only emitted a single grunt, before his now-lifeless body fell to the ground.

"…I do."

Chester approached Drake, flashing a quick thumbs up in the process. "Excellent shooting there man. Really top notch!"

"It's all in the release," the tiger said with a nod and smile. "But now is not the time for a celebration."

"You're right Drake," Blaire said, agreeing with the Espionage Agent. "The party will have to wait until we've completed our assignment. Now come on, let's go." With that, the Siberian Husky resumed sneaking through the base, her friends following suite.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Meanwhile, Scarlett leisurely walked through the halls of that underground base, smug confidence present on her face. It was clear she wasn't worried about the outcome of her future meeting with the agents O.R.D Director Allen Retroden had sent to spy on them. The red-furred vixen was confident that no matter who she was facing, she'd come out the victor. However, there was one team-or more specifically, one agent-that she really hoped she would come across…

And as she turned a corner, she played out a few possible scenarios in her mind. They were different, yes, but each ended the same-her, a satisfied smirk on her face, standing over a body that had just been impaled by her longsword. And that body belonged to one Mobian, and one Mobian only. It was the same Mobian that had defeated her in many a battle. But this time, she, Scarlett Cyphon, would be the victor.

She halted for just a moment, looking over her shoulder. To the casual observer-had there been one-it seemed as if Scarlett was waiting for someone. And that metaphorical casual observer would have thought correctly. The fox waited, albeit a bit impatient, for some sort of sign-be it the sound of footsteps echoing through the base, or the sight of a right shoe rounding the corner-of a team of O.R.D agents.

And at last, she saw it.

Dancing on the red clay wall, was a small group of shadows. Scarlett's eyes widened in sheer joy, and her ears leaned forward. The red-furred vulpine watched intently as the shadows formed into familiar shapes-shapes of which the fox recognized.

And they were shapes that she wanted to see.

With a self-centered smirk on her muzzle, Scarlett did a simple 'about face', and headed for a door on the other end of the hallway. She approached the wooden entryway, her arm already raised up, and her fist balled up. She gently tapped those glove-covered knuckles on the smooth timber, hoping to get an immediate reply from the one in the room.

"Yes?"

"Sergeant Shrapnel Torsile!" Scarlett cried, tensing up her shoulders. "I demand that you open this door. Immediately!"

A small groan could be heard from inside, followed by the sound of footsteps. After a few seconds, the footsteps ceased. Scarlett saw as the doorknob was twisted and the door pushed open. The fox's green eyes met the dark brown ones of a Mobian Mountain Weasel.

"Lieutenant Scarlett, what brings you here?" Shrapnel asked, a glower on his face.

"Business, my lower ranking colleague, simple business. Now let me in so I can explain in private!" With that, Scarlett pushed the weasel out of her way, sending him to the ground as she walked past.

"What on Mobius was that for?" Shrapnel questioned angrily, glaring at Scarlett as she walked to the end of the room. It, like that of the fox's and Raxton's, was an expansive place, shaped like a cube. Bronze trimmings lined the corner, signifying Shrapnel's rank as Sergeant and third-in-command for the Klawzax Unit. A bookshelf-it was not filled with hardbacks, but loose pieces of paper known to many in the business world as documents-rested in the north-east corner of the wall. A wood desk had been placed several feet from the south wall.

And it was to that desk Scarlett was making her way to.

The red-furred fox silently strolled behind that desk, a dissatisfied look on her face. That gloved-covered paw of hers reached for the pine chair behind it. She pulled it about a foot away, the legs scrapping the dirt terrazzo. Scarlett slumped down onto the seat, and used the strength of her body to move the chair back to its original spot.

Shrapnel pushed himself up of the floor and headed towards Scarlett. "Okay Lieutenant," he began to ask the vixen, "What is this all about?"

"As you know, we've been going over some…plans."

"By 'plans' do you mean our plot to ambush several members of the Oakland Resistance Division?"

"That's the one."

"What about it?"

"Well," Scarlett began, her eyes half closed, shoulders shrugged, "I figured we'd go over it again, to make sure that there are no flaws in the wondrous design Raxton and I came up with."

"Excuse me," Shrapnel said, crossing his arms and tilting his head to the left, "But I think you forgot to include_my_ name."

The red fox simply ignored the weasel's remark as she continued speaking. "Let's see. First, we send a little message to the O.R.D's headquarters, telling them that a group of Mobians had been captured by Dr. Robotnik and are set to be Roboticized."

"And then," the sergeant began, unenthusiastically though, "When the Oakland Resistance Division travels to Robotropolis, we ambush them in the SWATbot factory after they've shut it down."

"Then once we have those pathetic O.R.D agents trapped, we'll demand that they join us. And if they don't-"

"We blow the place…" Shrapnel stated, a toothy, icy grin crossing his face-it was the hot glare of Scarlett that melted it off his features.

"No," the red furred vixen began, unsheathing her longsword. "If some of them don't join us, I'll feed their life forces to my trusty blade here."

"Fascinating," the Mountain Weasel said flatly, disappointed with having his dreams of using explosive objects to eliminate Mobians that refused to join them shattered.

Scarlett simply ignored him, a smirk growing on her visage. The red-furred vixen slowly stood up out of the chair-that right paw of hers gently pushed her ears back flat on her head as she did so-and sauntered over to the door. Casually, she leaned against it, her left side brushing up alongside the wood, her arms crossed.

"You O.R.D. Agents might want to forget telling your director what you know. You'll be dead before then."

As soon as she heard that, Agent Blaire Fields felt the fur on the back of her neck bristle in nervousness. _"How did she know we were here?"_

"You didn't think you'd get this information without a fight, now did you?" Scarlett inquired, a smirk on her face.

On the other side of the door, Blaire silently cursed this turn of events. "[i]Darn it! I was hoping we'd learn what the Klawzax Unit was planning [b]without[/b] getting into another fight!"[/i] Her teeth gritted in frustration not often seen on her, the dog gripped the wooden door handle and twisted it once. She then pushed the access way open, finding herself staring right into the eyes of one Scarlett Cyphon.

"Tell me Scarlett," Blaire began, hands on her hips, "How did you know we were here?"

"It's very simple," the fox began, a sinister smile on her face. "Commander Raxton ushered me into his office, and told me that he had a feeling that Director Retroden would send a group of Oakland Resistance Division Agents such as yourselves to spy on us. So, I decided to wait outside the hall, until I saw a quartet of shadows on the wall. Your shadows. Then, I headed in here, and Shrapnel and I discussed the plan, and I hoped you would eavesdrop on us."

"Now wait just one moment," Chester began, swinging his hands from left to right in rapid succession. "You actually _wanted_ use to eavesdrop? Isn't that kind of like saying 'We want to lose?' And by 'we', I mean 'you'."

The red fox simply chuckled, her eyes closed shut. "Oh no, you misunderstood. The Oakland Resistance Division is the one that will lose in the end. Unless…" the vixen quickly opened her eyes, gaze locked on Blaire.

"Unless what?" the purple-furred Siberian Husky asked, crossing her arms in the process.

"Unless you O.R.D agents join our cause," Shrapnel finished, knowing exactly what Scarlett was thinking. This action resulted in a red hot glare from the Lieutenant herself, who in turn received an ice cold glower from the brown-furred Mountain Weasel.

"Why would we want to do that?" Aurora inquired.

"An excellent question," Drake agreed, nodding his head.

"Don't you see?" Scarlett asked, not even focusing her stare on the wolf or the tiger-she still locked eyes with Blaire Fields. "If you join us, this war will be a few steps closer to being won!"

"Oh, I can think of a much better way to win the war. One that doesn't involve us being slaves to Dr. Robotnik's every whim," Blaire replied, anger in her voice.

"Get it through your head Blaire," Scarlett began. She then glanced over at Shrapnel, with a look on her face that said, 'This time, you may finish my sentence, Sergeant.'

It didn't take the weasel long to put the pieces of the facial recognition puzzle together. Thus, with a toothy smirk, Shrapnel took the stage, so to speak.

"Do you guys _really_ think that fighting _against _Robotnik is the way to go?"

"Yes, we do," Blaire answered, straight and to the point. "Unlike you, we realize the danger Robotnik possesses. Would you like to be an emotionless robot? Because that's what you will be if you don't fight back."

"I find that a little ironic," Scarlett began, raising an eyebrow. "Haven't several of your members been roboticized because they refused to comply with Robotnik's rules? I don't see how fighting against him will solve anything."

"While it is true that we've lost several agents to the terror of Robotization, I still stand by my belief that we Mobians should-urk!"

The sensation of cold metal reached Blaire's chin, a force elevating her muzzle. What was causing it, the dog knew exactly. And as she rolled her eyes downward to meet the face of a certain red fox, a fierce look crossed Blaire's countenance. The canine slowly reached to the scabbard hanging from her left hip, her glove-covered paw then grasping the hilt of her saber.

"_So, I see you want a fight, my rival. I was hoping to get out of here unscathed, but I guess my wish was shot down."_

The clanking of clashing swords echoed through the room as Blaire swiftly swung her Sapphire Blade underneath Scarlett's longsword. The force off the strike caused the fox's blade to move up and away from the husky-Blaire came out with a small scratch on the bottom of her chin, but it was either that or a slit throat. The Siberian Husky then turned her head towards her team, and barked a single order.

"Guys, get back to headquarters and warn the division!"

Aurora stepped forward, a concerned look on her face. "But Blaire, what about you?"

"Don't worry about me, Aurora," the dog said to her best friend, barely having time to duck under a thrust from Scarlett's longsword. "Just make sure everyone back at headquarters knows what these creeps are doing!" she yelled, referring obviously to the Klawzax Unit.

The rest of Team K-87 just stood there for several seconds, watching their leader gallantly fighting Scarlett. They did not want to leave their friend behind, but she had given them an order they needed to follow. Finally, Aurora broke the silence.

"Chester, Drake, let's go."

Just like that, the order had been issued from the team's Second-in-Command. Drake and Chester each gave a collective nod, turned around and headed out the door.

Aurora stayed put for a little while longer, her gaze focused on the swordfight in front of her. The Timber Wolf so wanted to help Blaire out and for a second, she almost brought her paw to the weapon hanging from her belt-it was a lavender-dyed boomerang with a sharp metal point secured on each end; The Lunerang. And yet…she knew she had to obey a direct order. The lives of several Mobians depended on her and the guys getting back to headquarters safely.

With a sigh, the wolf headed for the door in a burst of speed and worked on heading back to Chester and Drake. But as she ran, she hoped they didn't have to sacrifice the life of one Mobian, even if it was to save several…

Out of the corners of her eyes did Scarlett see the three O.R.D agents high-tail it. "Shrapnel!" she cried, taking the brunt of a hack and slash attack from Blaire's saber-she cringed as the razor-sharp blade created a long gash across her left side-"Follow them! Make sure they don't get back alive!"

"With pleasure…" the weasel drawled, reaching for a time bomb strapped to his belt, a sinister smirk on his muzzle. The sergeant wasted not a moment heading for the door, eager to put his volatile weapon to work.

"_I can't use this in the base, or I'd obviously be risking its destruction. But once I'm outside, those pathetic Oakland Resistance Division Agents will go to pieces. Literally."_

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Back at the room of Sergeant Shrapnel Torsile, Blaire and Scarlett continued to have at it. The steel blades of a pair of swords constantly clashed against each other as the two Mobians parleyed. Blaire suddenly formed an uppercut slash, the blade of her saber putting a gash along Scarlett's right side. The vixen grunted in pain as the strike connected and backed up a couple of steps.

"_Hmmm…she's getting better. I'll give her that. But her skills are still light-years away from mine!" _

Had Scarlett said that out loud, any Mobian who knew her would give her a crazy look. For they would wonder exactly how the fox could be the better swordsman between her and Blaire, when it was the husky who had emerged the victor in most of their mêlées. However, this logic did not apply to Scarlett- She truly believed her skills were superior to that of Blaire's.

The vixen quickly resumed the battle. She slashed her sword in a diagonal fashion, aiming for her opponent's chest and torso. However, Blaire's expert reflexes were on her side. The Siberian Husky ducked underneath the bladed weapon, and quickly counter-attacked. She turned on her heels, her saber outstretched. She was hoping for the tip of her Sapphire Blade to slice the fox's torso.

However, her hopes were soon shattered.

While Blaire was twisting her body around, Scarlett formulated an immediate mental plan. A vindictive grin growing on her muzzle, the vulpine tightened the grip she had on the longsword with her right paw, and wrapped the left paw around the hilt in the same matter. Then-with a move reminiscent of an all-star baseball player up at bat, ready to score a homerun-the Mobian swung her weapon.

_Whack_

That was the sound the flat part of the steel blade made when it connected with the side of Blaire's head. A prolonged groaned escaping from her lips, the canine staggered backwards several feet in a daze. She then tripped over her feet, falling onto her side with a thud. As she placed a paw over the area where a tiny amount of pain was radiating, her fingers touched a small lump protruding out of the leftmost side of her cranium.

For a moment, the Siberian Husky had forgotten about the fight. However, she would soon snap out of this little bout of amnesia.

Scarlett's sword came after Blaire again. Only this time, it wasn't the flat part aimed at the side of her head-it was a cutting edge intended for her throat. It was of great luck for the dog that she just so happened to look up at that moment. Her eyes, suddenly growing wide in surprise, locked on to the steel blade heading towards her. A burst of adrenaline kicking in, Blaire quickly slammed her saber into the underside of the longsword, shifting it upwards.

"_Curses! Foiled again!"_ Scarlett thought, repeating a somewhat famous quote in her mind. _"But not for long…"_

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

The crater stretched several feet across, smoke still rising from the center. The time bomb Shrapnel had brought did its job, and it did it well-exploding into several hundred pieces. However, the weasel's original intent was to take those three Oakland Resistance Division members down. The plan was flawless, at least in Shrapnel's mind. But, one's own mind was capable of fabricating the opposite of fate had planned.

The weasel had, through the use of trees camouflaging his movements, managed to get ahead of the likes of Aurora, Drake, and Chester. The sergeant then ran over to a bare patch of land, placing his bomb on the ground besides him even before he stopped his lope. Shrapnel patted the dirt below, checking to make sure it was soft enough for him to dig with his bare paws. The easy shifting of the soil confirmed this, and the Mobian went to work, scooping up the earth into a small pile.

After a while, Shrapnel had managed to dig a hole large enough to place the bomb. He had set the weapon inside and pushed the dirt on it, patting it down flat afterwards. Once the trap was set, he wasted not one moment springing to his feet and running behind a large tree. All that had been left to do, was wait.

However, he had not factored in Aurora's speed. The wolf steadily clocked one hundred and ten miles per hour as she made her way across the land-although she did stop for some short moments to let her slower comrades catch up with her. With this speed, she was quickly able reach a spot where she would be able to catch sight of Shrapnel setting the bomb.

At first, the Timber Wolf had to do a double take, not really believing what she was seeing. But a second look confirmed her suspicions. The canine, planting her feet firmly in the ground, halted her sprint, dust kicking up in the process. She then attempted to wait for her comrades-as she looked back at the weasel, she had to fight an urge to bite down on her lip, as she hoped Chester and Drake would reach her before the bomb detonated. After all, she'd rather get back to Oakland Village in [i]just[/i] one piece.

"_Hurry guys, hurry…"_

It was shortly before the brown-furred weasel had finished pushing a pile of dirt onto the bomb that Chester appeared in the distance, Drake not too far behind. It was clear that the Alpine Chipmunk was exhausted, what with the mint green fur on his brow plastered with sweat. The Bengal Tiger behind him was also feeling a little fatigued, his breath coming in short bursts.

"Why'd you stop Au-?" Just as soon as he opened his month to speak did Chester slam it shut. One glance at Shrapnel's back was all he needed to know what was going on. After several years of being an O.R.D agent, he knew well how the mind of that weasel worked, to an extent. Him planting a bomb was no surprise to the well-experienced chipmunk.

"How are we going to get past The Mad Bomber?" Chester had asked, lowering his voice to a whisper.

Slowly, that paw of Aurora's had lowered itself to the belt weaved through the loops of her khaki pants. Her fingers wrapped around the handle of her SIG, and she slowly pulled it out of her belt loop. The wolf, eyes squinting almost shut, had aimed the hand gun at the patch of ground where Shrapnel was now running away from.

"Like this," the Timber Wolf had stated, slowly squeezing the trigger. A small blast ignited inside the barrel of the weapon, pushing a bullet out with great force. The cylindrical round whizzed forward, performing barrel roll after barrel roll in the air. Closer and closer it came to the bomb until…

Soon, the area above the volatile weapon was filled with dust as the bullet detonated the bomb on impact. Aurora, a satisfied look on her face, began running once again, breezing through now half-buried shrapnel. Drake and Chester had followed suit, groaning a little when they noticed the pastel blue wolf had gotten considerably ahead of them already.

An aggravated growl had escaped the throat of Sergeant Shrapnel Torsile upon the weasel catching site of his bomb blowing up without taking down even one of the trio. He plastered a paw over his face, bringing it downwards, and causing an ever so slight stretching of skin. He would have gone after the Division Agents, had it not been for the fact that they were now too far ahead for him to catch up to, and there were no other shortcuts he could take.

"Drat…" the brown Mobian had muttered, as he slowly stood up and faced the Klawzax Unit's headquarters. And as he did so, he hoped Scarlett would have taken care of Blaire by the time he returned. At least the fox would have been in a good mood-and that would make things much, _much _easier to explain…

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Blaire and Scarlett stood eye-to-eye with each other, both breathing heavily. Cuts and bruises lined their bodies, the result of the prolonged swordfight.

"Give it up Blaire. You'll never defeat me," Scarlett said, tightening her grip on her sword's hilt. "So I'm going to give you two, and only two options. You can either-"

"I know, I know," the purple-furred Mobian interrupted, rolling her eyes. "I can either join you, or I can let you slit my throat."

"Very well," the vixen began, a malicious sneer on her face. "Take your pick."

"Let's see, I certainly do _not_ want to join the likes of you guys," the Siberian Husky answered, beginning to circle around her rival.

"Then one slit throat, coming right up!"

"_Not so fast, Scarlett."_

The red fox never saw the saber coming. She moved in with her longsword, aiming to cut a long gash across Blaire's throat. But as she did so, she failed to remember the husky's lightning fast relaxes. The dog swiftly ducked, Scarlett's blade barely nicking her ears. Blaire managed to ignore the pain that came from the slash and moved in for retaliation.

That metallic blue tip dug ever so slightly into Scarlett's torso. A scrapping sound reached the two canines' ears, brought on by Blaire moving her sword upwards with great swiftness. The gash wasn't deep, but it did its job-the red vixen stopped all activity then and there, focusing on the lengthy incision.

_Wham!_

The end of that saber's hilt slammed into Scarlett's skull, the fox having been too distracted by her wound to notice it even coming. The vixen swayed to the side for a few seconds in a daze. And then, she felt herself being pulled to the floor, that black nose of hers slamming right into the red dirt. Scarlett got just a glimpse of a puce boot, before darkness overtook her…

"Heh, that fox always had a bit of a soft skull," Blaire mused, sheathing her Sapphire Blade back into its scabbard. "Oh well, that's the breaks," she said with a shrug, a smug grin crossing her features. One about-face later, and she was heading out of the lair, taking a few detours to avoid detection from other Unit agents.

"Ah yes, another mission, successfully completed."

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

It was the following evening. Blaire trekked through the city of Robotropolis, her mission to shut down one of the many factories scattered about. Her taste buds filled with the sweet taste of a chocolate mint, the Siberian Husky smiled to herself. So far, her assignment had been fraught with very little trouble. She'd gotten past security without much of a problem, save for a couple SWATbots that had since been put out of commission thanks to Blaire's Sapphire Blade.

She didn't notice it until it passed her.

It shot past her like a bullet that had been recently charged from a gun. Blaire's eyes landed on a blue blur, the Siberian Husky having to do a double take when she noticed the incredible velocity it was traveling at.

"Whoa, that guy's faster than Aurora, even if she was using Airstream Boost," the Mobian told herself, clearly impressed by the blur's speed. "Much faster." Of course, with something traveling at that speed, it wasn't long before it faded from view. Blaire, a slight smirk on her face, resumed walking, the image of the speedy figure, or at least a smeared image of him, still etched in her mind.

"And the evening just started…"


	2. Valiance

**Guess who's back! That's right, moi! And have I got something to show you all. It's a brand new chapter! But before I allow you all to read my latest creation, I must go over some copyright stuff. Because I'd rather not get sued by those corporate types. So.....**

**I do not own any canon characters, canon places, canon items, canon etc. I do, however, own all fan characters, fan places, fan items, fan items, etc that you will see in this fic. **

**With that said, enjoy!**

_Drip._

_Drip_

That sound reached Drake's ears with a steady cadence. The tiger sloughed through the sewer system of Robotropolis. He hated to go through the culvert, but it was the safest way to get to his destination; outside the building that housed the city's main SWATbot factory.

_Drip._

_Drip._

On and on that Bengal Tiger walked, his eyes scanning the vicinity. It would only be a few more minutes until he reached his area of interest, and then he'd have to be careful. For Dr. Robotnik had increased the amount of guards around the city. Such an action would have obviously prompted an experienced Freedom Fighter to take caution and find another way through the city.

And Drake fit that category nicely.

One of the skills possessed by the typical tiger is the ability to see in the dark. Knowing that fact would make it clear why Drake was the one on this mission in the first place-he'd be able to navigate through even the dark sewer system easily. And thus he would be able to see what other Mobian species may very well miss; a manhole cover.

"_Perfect_," the yellow-furred cat said to himself, a sly smile crossing his muzzle. Instead of walking to the manhole cover, however, Drake made his way to a small metal crate sitting near the corner. "How very convenient," he sat out load, lifting up the steel box. He carried it underneath the manhole cover, whereupon placing the crate down, he climbed up on top of it. Now that he could reach the cover, the Bengal Tiger could get to work, slowly unscrewing the opening of the cesspit.

A bright light assaulted the Mobian's eyes, forcing them shut. However, he could not stop the smile on his face from growing. For when his eyes adjusted to the light, he could see his target building right in front of him. Now all that was left was getting inside and shutting down the factory. But with the place practically crawling with SWATbots, that was not going to be such a simple task.

Drake's gloved paws moved down to the comlink inside his left ear. He switched it on and spoke into the microphone clipped inside his coat. "This is Drake. I've reached the SWATbot factory."

The sound of static crackling reached his ears, followed by a familiar voice. "That's great. So, how does it look in there?"

"Well, I haven't actually gotten inside yet, Blaire," the tiger relayed to the husky on the other end of the line.

"Do tell. Well, I trust you'll let me know when you get inside, right?" Blaire inquired.

"I will. Drake out," the yellow feline said, switching off the comlink.

The Bengal Tiger turned back to look at the building, scanning it with his own two eyes. "Well, here goes nothing," he said, cautiously making his way to the entrance. He glanced left and right, making sure that he could catch sight of a SWATbot before any of them saw him first. Several of those humanoid androids were marching in front of the drab-looking edifice, paying no attention whatsoever to Drake. The adult Mobian nodded in satisfaction at this fact, though he knew his luck wouldn't hold out like this for long.

From inside the pocket of his dark green coat did he produce a small magazine filled with seven bullets, each custom-dyed a navy blue. The tiger placed the magazine inside his Ocearine Revolver, thus readying his gun for battle. Then, as silent as the feral version of his species would be stalking prey, Drake continued walking, firearm cocked and ready to be used.

_**Intruder Alert! Detain by order of Robotnik!**_

Drake felt his ears perk up when he heard that message coming from a duo of digitized voices. The tiger turned his head to the left and that was when he saw it; two SWATbots coming after him, lasers charged and ready to fire. Soon, a pair of fluorescent blue beams blasted their way towards the yellow feline. Acting quickly, the Mobian veered off to the left, but thanks to his slower speed working against him, he paid a small price with the rays hitting his tail and right foot.

With a cry of pain, the cat fell to the ground, his face hitting the gray asphalt and scrapping a small amount of his leathery muzzle. Groaning as he got up, the first thing Drake saw were those two metal menaces.

"_Ah, darn it…"_

As one would guess, Drake wasn't too happy about this little turn of events. In fact, if he had let go of his revolver during his fall and the gun had landed out of reach, he'd be very annoyed. But it didn't and he wasn't. Instead, he was just mildly cross.

"_If it's a fire fight they want, then it's a fire fight they'll get!"_

In one smooth motion, the Bengal Tiger aimed his gun towards one of the SWATbots and pulled the trigger. A navy blue bullet was discharged from the barrel, the projectile spinning in mid-air as it made its way towards the leftmost robot. The SWATbot had just enough time to aim its laser wrist at the yellow feline before the bullet tore through its slitted eye. The impact caused the wires within to break and tear, ultimately ruining the android's programming.

_**ERROR! ERROR! PROGRAM GOING OFFLINE. DATABASE ERror…..**_

Sparks flew off that SWATbot as it fell to the ground, disorientating the robot next to it. This little distraction bought Drake some time, enough to fire a second round. The bullet smashed through the chest plate of the android, were it would have pierced its heart, had one been beating within.

One after the other, the SWATbots fell with resounding clatters. With this threat gone, Drake could relax-for a mere moment that is. For he still had a job to do, and just sitting around would not have been the brightest of things to do at the moment. After all, there were still plenty of SWATbots patrolling the area.

Thus with that thought in mind, the tiger stood up. However, as he did so, a seething pain shot up in his right foot just as he pressed it down on the asphalt street of the city. Drake had to clench his fist and grit his teeth tightly to keep from crying out.

"_Drat, just my luck…"_

Now, speed was not one of Drake's strong suits. He wasn't _terribly_ slow, but "fleet-footed" would be a bad choice of words to describe him. And now with this foot injury, the tiger would have to be even more careful in getting to that building. For he knew that if any of those SWATbots saw him, his chances of survival would be as slim as a straw in a glass of some sort of fizzy soda.

But at this particular moment, luck seemed to b e on his side-one could say that fate was apologizing to Drake for that previous event-for the tiger had the pleasure of not one of the other SWATbots sighting him. With that advantage, he could safely make his way to the factory. Now, he just had to figure out a way to get inside.

His back planted firmly against the wall of that edifice, Drake switched on his comlink. The hiss of static reached the Mobians ears, forcing him to cringe slightly. But once it had settled down to a less audible level, the tiger spoke.

"Chester, you around? It's me, Drake."

Just a few short seconds later, the voice of a certain Alpine Chipmunk came on the other end of the comlink. "Ah, hey there man. Have you made it yet?"

"Almost. I just need you to give me the code to open this place," the tiger told the team's resident computer expert.

"No problem, buddy," came Chester's voice on the other end of the connection. If Drake listened closely, he would be able to hear the faint sound of paper being shuffled. Not long after, Chester resumed speaking, clearing his throat right before. "Ah yes, to enter the building, you must enter the following code; Alpha, gamma, echo, zero, six, five, three, one. Got that?"

"Alpha, gamma, echo, zero, six, five, three, one," the yellow-furred tiger repeated, pressing the correct buttons as he spoke them in turn. "I see Blaire had you use phonetics," Drake told Chester as he watched a green light of confirmation flash on the door, the entranceway opening shortly afterwards.

If the two Mobians were standing next to each other, Drake would have seen Chester shrug his shoulders nonchalantly. "Actually, that was Aurora's idea. You know who she gets sometimes, what with her-ouch!" The Alpine Chipmunk was cut off by something whacking him upside some part of his body-Aurora's Lunerang to his head, Drake mused with a smirk.

"My what now?" the tiger heard the pastel blue-furred wolf ask.

"N-nothing," Chester stuttered.

"Good," Aurora said simply, to which the chipmunk gave a sigh of relief. He was glad that the canine was quick to forgive.

And speaking of canines, a third voice reached Drake's ears, this one with a slight scolding tone to it…

…Blaire's.

"Guys, please get back to the matter at hand and let Drake finish his mission, will ya?"

"_Sounds good to me_," the Bengal Tiger thought, stepping into that factory. What greeted him was a sight he was accustomed to-conveyor belts were lined up in several rows, fourteen total. Traveling along said belts was a plethora of SWATbot parts. The navy blue metal that made up the bulk of one such robotic soldier. The crimson glass used for the visor of the helmets, meticulously welded in an almost perfect arch. And finally, the many complex circuits and wires that give life to the loyal followers of Robotnik.

TEKbots were stationed at various areas of the factory, helping together those SWATbots that made up the populace of Robotropolis. However, they weren't the only ones employed in the factory. For a few WORKERbots were also stationed there-a rabbit, a beaver, and a mouse from the looks of it.

Such a sight made Drake heave a heavy sigh of sorrow. He desperately hoped that he could shut down this factory without those robotized Mobians taking notice of, and trying to attack him. For that may mean resorting to the use of his gun and shooting them. Now, when it came to killing a member of the Klawzax Unit, Drake rarely, if ever hesitated. That group was full of traitors who [i]willingly[/i] decided to support Robotnik, and the yellow-furred tiger hardly ever felt not the least tinge of guilt when he had to kill one of them-of course, he would only do so if absolutely necessary.

But a WORKERbot…

If there was one thing, aside from him murdering his own friends, that could flood Drake with rivers of guilt, it would be shooting a roboticized Mobian. After all, unlike a member of the Klawzax Unit, a WORKERbot was loyal to Robotnik against his or her own will. They had already been through enough torture as it was and the last thing they needed was a nine millimeter hole in their chests, smoke coming out of the wound. And although it was likely that a Roboticized Mobian could be repaired in the event of damage, that didn't serve to make Drake feel the least bit better about a scenario where he had to shoot a roboticized Mobian.

After all, he had seen the metallic copse of a WORKERbot half-buried in a pile of rusty junk a few times before. It was sights like this that made Drake wonder if Robotnik cared at all for his servants. Of course, the tiger believed the answer to that question to be a firm 'no'.

It was at that moment that Drake realized that he had allowed himself to get distracted by the WORKERbots. He quickly shook that yellow furred cranium of his from left to right, aiming to clear his mind. Now, his psyche free of the images that were clouding it, the tiger could concentrate on finishing his mission.

His back pressed against a steel wall, Drake surreptitiously made his way through the industrial unit. It was quite fortunate for the adult Mobian that the main control switch for the factory was inside the very same partition he was creeping along.

Therefore, it did not take the Bengal Tiger that that long until he reached a small metal door on the side of the wall. From inside his dark green jacket Drake produced a small screwdriver. He inserted the tool into the slot of one of the bolts, and twisted it to the left, thereby loosening it. Soon, a soft cling could be heard as the screw hit the steel terrazzo.

"_Just one more and I can really put my plan into motion,"_ the Mobian thought as he went to work on loosening the bolt adjacent to where the one that just fell had been.

A rough rolling sound caught Drake's attention. From what the tiger could tell, the resonance was one of undulating wheels, most likely from a TEKbot. A TEKbot coming his way, that is. Out of simple habit, Drake pulled out his Ocearine Revolver and aimed it in the direction of the sound. If any TEKbot came his way, he would be ready.

However, it wasn't a TEKbot that came. Rather, it was the robotic rabbit, pushing a metal cart across the room. Luckily for Drake, the lagomorph hadn't noticed him-just yet. But the closer the distance between the two of them became, it became more and more likely that his good fortune would run out.

"_Come on, come on. Turn around, will ya!?" _Drake mentally yelled. But no Mobian in history has ever been able to read the minds of another. With that fact, it was of no surprise that the rabbit just kept on walking, getting closer to the tiger.

"_There's got to be some way to get that rabbit to change his course. But what_?" Drake thought, cutting his eyes from side to side.

"_**Intruder alert! Detain and capture at all costs, by order of Robotnik!" **_

Drake had been spotted.

The rabbit had suddenly let go of the cart's handle and headed for the Bengal Tiger, eyes glowing a deep crimson color. Seeing this, Drake slowly began to back up, his arms outstretched and palms facing the roboticized Mobian.

"Hold on a sec. You don't want to capture me," the yellow cat explained, cringing slightly as his wounded foot hit the steel flooring of the factory.

"_**And give me one good reason why not**_," the rabbit demanded, his voice full of maliciousness.

"Because," Drake began, aiming his gun at the robotic Mobian-of course, he was not going to fire at the lagomorph. His action was purely a bluff, an attempt to frighten the rabbit off.

"Because you I'm one of you! I mean, sure I'm flesh and blood, but you were once that way yourself. Until Robotnik sent you through the Roboticizer and turned you into an emotionless machine, that is."

"_**Your explanation does not compute. Robotnik is master. And master would never do something like that. Now, I must take you to Robotnik. For you are the enemy."**_

"You've got it wrong! I'm not the enemy! Robotnik is-," Like a gardener severing a dead rose off the plant, something cut off Drake just at the end of his sentence. And that something, were the voices of a SWATbot foursome.

"_**Intruder alert! Detain by order of Robotnik!"**_ the quartet shouted, laser rifles pointed right at the Bengal Tiger.

"_This isn't my day_," Drake thought, growing a bit on the tense side. And as he pondered a way to escape, he almost forgot that he had his gun drawn. Almost, but not quite. In a flash, he had changed the settings on his weapon to revolver mode. Carefully, he took aim, his sights set on the leftmost SWATbot.

A shot rang out.

_Bang._

Then a second.

_Bang._

Then a third projectile was fired.

_Bang._

And finally, a fourth.

Four rounds were fired in rapid succession, each bullet aimed at one of the SWATbots. Lead met metal and circuitry in a 'two's company, but three's a crowd form'. The projectiles sliced through the wires controlling the humanoid robots, sparks flying in every which way.

Temporarily blinded by the bright flashes, the rabbit backed away from the tumult-and unwillingly gave Drake a one-in-a-hundred chance of escaping. Taking it, the tiger turned around, holstered his gun, and limped as fast as his legs could carry him.

Not breaking his stride, he then reached for, and switched on, his comlink. Ignoring the sound of static that had entered his ear canals, the yellow-furred Mobian spoke.

"Blaire? Blaire, come in!"

"Drake?" the husky on the other end asked, picking up a tinge of panic in the tiger's voice. "Is something wrong?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," he answered. "I was sighted before I could finish the job. In other words, I've failed the mission."

"Yikes, that's no good," Blaire told him, a bit nervous herself.

"But wait a minute," she continued, realizing something. "Why didn't you just shoot the TEKbot that spotted you? Were you afraid to attract attention to yourself? If that's the reason, then it's understand-,"

"I only wish it_ was_ a TEKbot. Or even a SWATbot"

Understanding dawned in the valley of Blaire's mind. "You mean you were sighted by…" the candid paused to collect her words. "…A roboticized Mobian?"

"Exactly. Luckily, fate intervened and I managed to escape. I'm heading to the rendezvous point as we speak," Drake relayed to the violet-furred Siberian Husky. This whole time, the tiger had kept running, heading out of and away from the factory. Though he was in pain from getting shot in the foot, he never slowed down, for he knew that such an event may just as well have spelt disaster for him.

"Alright then, we'll be waiting. Blaire out," came the voice of the dog that was the team's commander.

"_Okay then_," thought Drake, a sigh escaping his throat, as he continued his speed limp to the meeting place of his team mates.

* * *

The rendezvous point was no more than one of the dark alleys of Robotropolis. Had there not been dark clouds covering the sun, its rays would not shine through the alleyway, except certain brief times a day.

At the present moment, Agent Blaire Fields stood right outside the mouth of the alley. Eyes locked in the direction of the factory from which Drake had escaped, the Siberian Husky awaited the tiger's return. All the while, she drummed her fingers on the edge of a building besides her in steady cadence.

"_Come on Drake, where are you_?" the Mobian wondered, trying to keep concealed the worry she felt-she had no desire to let her team see that their leader was nervous.

The sound of heavy breathing entered Blaire's ear canals like a yacht entering the mouth of a lake. Not far off, the canine could see Drake running towards them, a slight limp in his step.

"Ah Drake, there you are!" the Siberian Husky said, walking towards the tiger. "Are you okay? What happened to your foot?"

"I got shot," the cat said, simple as that.

"Wait a sec," Aurora began, running towards her friends. "You got shot?"

Drake nodded. "Yes. But don't worry, I should be fine in the long run. Now come on, we have to-"

All at once, blue steel entered Drake's line of vision. The tiger backed up a step so he could see that Blaire had used the flat part of her Sapphire Blade to block his path.

"Sorry Drake, but you are not going back to the factory if that's what you're thinking of doing."

Gently, the tiger pushed the blade down to get a good look at the Siberian Husky's face. "At first, I wasn't going back. But then, I remembered how important this assignment was…And I am determined to finish it. I just need some assistance."

But Blaire was adamant. "Look Drake, while it's true that this is an important mission, your safety is much more so. We are going back to Oakland so you can recuperate."

Drake didn't even continue to argue with her. He knew that the dog was right, though he hated to admit it. "Fine then, we'll go back," he said, lowing his head.

"But…" he began again, raising his cranium back up. "What are we going to do about the factory?"

"I assume another team will have to complete the mission," Chester replied, standing up off a crate he had been sitting on.

"There's a chance it may come to that," Blaire said, nodding in response. "Now Drake, how far do you think can you walk on that foot?"

"I managed to run all the way here without slowing down," the feline explained, shifting his weight to his good foot. "So, I should be okay for a while."

Aurora spoke up. "Either way, you'd better take it easy. Now, we should be okay, except for the fact that we have to pass the Klawzax Unit Headquarters on our way back. I'll run ahead and act as a scout to make sure we don't run into any trouble."

"Great idea," Blaire said. "Now come. We've got to get back to Oakland."

* * *

Inside the subversive lair of the Klawzax Unit, Lieutenant Scarlett Cyphon sat at her desk, trying to figure out some way, any way at all, to deal with the Oakland Resistance Division.

"Let's see…if we have Shrapnel-," What cut the fox off, was the voice of the very Mobian she had just mentioned.

"Scarlett!"

Hearing her name-and only her name-the vixen slowly, ever so slowly lifted her head up, stopping halfway. But those eyes, those emerald eyes, did not stop when her head did and the vulpine lowered her glasses. This, was so Shrapnel could see every bit of her irises.

"Shrapnel," Scarlett began, tapping her glasses against the rim of her desk. "What's the idea not referring to me by my title?"

Now, most Unit agents would shudder in fear upon being asked that question by the Red Fox. For Scarlett had once killed a member after he failed one too many times to refer to the Lieutenant by her rank. However, Shrapnel wasn't worried about what the vixen would try and do to him. In fact, the Mountain Weasel didn't even flinch when his superior slowly stood up, her paw wrapped tightly around the hilt of her longsword.

"Oh come on Scarlett. I don't make a big fuss when I'm not always called 'Sergeant.' Why should things be any different with you? It's just a title, after all."

That did it.

Fueled by fury, Scarlett swiftly pulled her sword out of its sheath and dug the tip of the blade into Shrapnel's chin-all in one single motion. Her eyes turning red, she spoke, a slight growl in her voice.

"'Just a title?' I don't know what planet you're from, but here on Mobius, we take the ranks we're given very seriously."

Despite the fact that Scarlett had dug her sword deeper into his chin, nicking the bottom of his jaw, Shrapnel could do naught but smirk-several of his ivory teeth were revealed to the vulpine.

"Seriously, you say? Heh, I guess killing one of your own for not calling you 'Lieutenant' does show how serious you are about your rank, eh?"

Scarlett took a step back…

And swung that longsword of hers in a wide arc, the blade flashing in the rather bright torch light used to illuminate the base. Her motive was to slice through Shrapnel's torso, hopefully severing the weasel in half. And she would have succeeded too, had the Sergeant not backed up a few steps. Aside from getting his vest ripped at the bottom, Shrapnel suffered not a single ill affect.

"Heh, you didn't really think I would just let you go on and kill me, now did ya, Scarlett?" the brown-furred Mobian asked, his teeth bared in a sinister grin.

"Hmph, I was hoping."

Shrapnel waggled a finger in the air. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. Now, my superior collogue, why I'm sure the Commander wouldn't care all too much if you killed one of the low ranking agents of the Unit, I have a bad feeling he would have you tied to a stake surrounded by flames if you ever murdered an officer such as myself."

With a growl of ire, Scarlett placed her sword back in its sheath. "One of these days, you'll put one of your feet in your mouth and you'll be too busy trying to get it out to notice a sharp blade at your throat."

The weasel took a grenade from his belt and proceeded to toss it up and down. "But if you killed me, I'd never have the chance to tell you when it's your turn for guard duty. And speaking of which…"

Shrapnel tossed that violate weapon quick high and fast. The grenade hovered in the air for but a nanosecond, before gravity kicked in and began bringing it down. As it descended, it spun like a top, a sideways top, that is. Shrapnel, instead of just letting the explosive weapon plop into his paw just like that, opted for a different way to grab it. Quick as lightning, the weasel reached out and plucked that grenade right in mid air.

"…Do you know what time it is right now?"

Scarlett's ears perked up at that question. Hands clasped behind her back, she leaned over and looked at Shrapnel right in those brown eyes of his. "And when were you going to tell me that?"

"Oh, just before you made that comment about me forgetting to refer you by your title."

"And why," Scarlett planted her paws on her hips. "Didn't you tell me it was my turn for guard duty before I said that comment?"

The Mountain Weasel shrugged, a toothy grin on his countenance. "I would have, but you came at me with that comment much too fast for me to say anything."

Instead of saying one more word, the red-furred vixen simply gave a 'hmph' of displeasure and turned around, her bushy tail whipping around her body. Head held high and fists clenched, she walked out the room, slamming the door behind her.

"Ho-hum," Shrapnel Torsile said to himself, shaking his head. "One of these days, Raxton is going to chew her out for being late to things just because someone had to get into a heated argument with her over not addressing her by her title."

He shrugged. "Oh well, that's not my problem."

* * *

"Oh boy. Guard duty. What fun," Scarlett said flatly, making her way to the entrance of the Klawzax Unit's subterranean base of operations. Before, her head was held at a proud-though she was a bit more on the angry side during that moment-angle. But now, that red-furred cranium of hers was carried low, eyes down cast. Also her tail, normally held high and mighty, was slacking behind her.

A small scoff escaped the vulpine's lips. "Huh, I'm the Lieutenant of this division! I should helping Raxton carry out some sort of deadly plan. Not guarding the entranceway from those pathetic Oakland Resistance Division Agents."

With a sigh, Scarlett brushed back her soft ears. "Oh well, things could be worse. At least since Shrapnel is at a lower rank then me, he won't get to help the Commander with anything without me there. That's like some kind of unwritten law Raxton established."

As the fox thought of that, a small, baleful grin slowly grew on her white-furred muzzle. "Oh, poor Shrapnel," she said with a sarcastic tongue. "Doesn't even get to help the Commander with a plan without me knowing about it first."

* * *

However, she could not have been more wrong.

For at that moment, the door leading into Commander Raxton Klawzax's room was approached by one Shrapnel Torsile. The weasel had been told to return to his leader's room as soon as he told Scarlett it was her turn for guard duty.

Now, the brown-furred Mobian had a feeling Raxton would be rather displeased with his lateness. But though the Sergeant was a little anxious, he felt that he had a reasonable excuse for his tardiness. In his mind, everything would work out fine.

In steady intonation, the weasel knocked on the wooden door. Almost immediately, he was greeted by the deep, commanding voice of Raxton Klawzax.

"Come in, Sergeant."

"_It's showtime,"_ Shrapnel thought as he wrapped a gloved paw around the brass doorknob. With naught a creak to be heard, the door was pushed open and inside stepped the Mountain Weasel.

"Good day to you sir," he said, trying to make a good impression.

"You are late," Raxton said, his words brief and to the point.

"I apologize sir," the weasel replied, crouching down on one knee and lowering his head.

"You see…" Shrapnel raised his head back up. "I went to tell Scar-I mean_ Lieutenant _Scarlett of her guard duties, like you asked of me. However, as you know, that fox gets pretty upset when she is not addressed by her title. Now, I mistakenly forgot to call her 'Lieutenant.' As a result, she began arguing with me and such, even going as far to try and kill me."

The cougar raised an eyebrow at his last statement. "Oh did she now? Try and kill you, that is?"

"That she did," the weasel nodded. "That fox pulled out her sword and tried cutting me in half with it. Would have got me too, had I not stepped back in time."

"Can you show me _proof _that Scarlett did in fact try and kill you?" Raxton inquired of Shrapnel.

"As a matter of fact," the weasel grabbed the bottom of his vest, where the rip it had sustained from Scarlett's longsword was, and held it off to the side. "I can. As you can see, there is a long tear in my clothing, where the Lieutenant had cut through with her sword."

The commander wasn't convinced. "Did you draw blood?"

All at once, Shrapnel became interested in his vest collar, as he let go of the bottom one of his few articles of clothing-the other being a pair of thick dark russet hiking boots-and wrapped his fingers around the collar. He then began to twist the cloth around, rivulets of nervous sweat running down his face and damping his fur.

"Well, no, but-"

The cougar leaned over his desk, eyes locked with Shrapnel. Total malevolence was on the orange-furred cat's face and his voice dripped with balefulness as he spoke.

"Do you really expect me to believe that?"

"Um…well…I…."

"_You fool!_" a voice in the back of the weasel's head suddenly spoke up. "_Why are you being so fretful? You know you're telling the truth. After all, you were there. You saw the whole incident. In fact, you were __**part**__ of it_!"

"That's right," Shrapnel whispered, beginning to calm down a little. He let go of his collar.

"But sir, I am telling the truth," he resumed. "Scarlett did try and kill me."

Heaving a sigh, Raxton sat back down behind his desk. "And why would she do a thing like that?" the cougar asked, intertwining his fingers together.

"Because she's killed someone for forgetting to refer to her by her title before," the Sergeant pointed out.

"While that is true, and she may do it again, I highly doubt she would have tried to kill you, Sergeant."

"And why would that be?" the brown-furred Mobian asked, his head tilted to one side.

"Because I'd tie her to a stake surrounded by flames if she murdered my only other officer."

Upon hearing that word, Shrapnel's eyes widened. "_Did he just say what I think he said?"_ the Mobian asked himself, not believing what he had heard. "_If this isn't the strangest case of déjà vu I've ever experienced…"_

All at once, the sound of Raxton's voice brought the Mountain Weasel back to reality. "Now Sergeant, let us discuss the reason why you're here in the first place, shall we?" he asked, gesturing to a few sheets of paper lined up on his desk, the papyrus overlapping each other.

"What are these for?" Shrapnel asked, picking up a sheet and examining it.

"These," Raxton began. "Are plans for my latest plot to eliminate the Oakland Resistance Division."

* * *

Emerald green blades of grass gently rustled as the gentle breeze meandered through the terrain. It was a tranquil sight, one of the few left in a world of chaos and disorder. However, this large, quiet field would soon get its fair share of disarray, starting with a pastel blue Timber Wolf coming up at one hundred and ten miles per hour.

Aurora Lunetane dashed through that field like a newly launched missile heading for its target. Aurora too, had a target, namely the base of the Klawzax Unit. And as she ran, the Mobian kept her sights straight forward, those eyes of hers never veering to the left or to the right.

"Now, if I know the geology of this area, then the Klawzax Unit Headquarters should be just up ahead."

Her calculations were right on. For off in the distance, there was the entranceway to the Unit Headquarters. And guarding it…

"Oh no!"

…Was Scarlett Cyphon.

Quick as a flash, Aurora doubled back, back to her friends. As she ran, she kicked up copious amounts of dust. "Oh man. Why her? Why now? Why not someone else?" the wolf asked herself, a rather nervous look on her face.

It did not take Aurora very long to reach Blaire and the others. Planting her feet firmly into the ground, the wolf came to a screeching halt.

"Hey there Aurora," Blaire said with a grin. "Have you anything to report?" the canine inquired of her best friend.

"As a matter of fact, I do," the pastel-blue furred Mobian answered, panting heavily. "I just noticed the Klawzax Unit Headquarters. And guess who's guarding the entrance."

"Rusty Lamogren?" Chester asked, wishfully, seeing as how Rusty, being one of the weaker agents, was easy to beat in a fair fight.

Aurora shook her head. "Nope. Scarlett."

Blaire heaved a heavy sigh and placed her hands on her hips. "Drat, I was hoping I wouldn't run into that annoying rival of mine today,"

The Siberian Husky then closed her eyes, lowered her head, and silently walked off a few feet to collect her thoughts. After a few moments she, her eyes still shut tight, reached into her trench coat pocket and pulled a tin container full of her customary chocolate mints. Without even a peek, she managed to pry the lid off the small metal box. She then tilted it at a slight forty degree angle, letting a couple candies fall into her outstretched palm.

Slowly, she plopped them into her mouth and began chewing. Almost immediately, the taste of mint and chocolate ran down her taste buds, two savory flavors becoming one.

"Hmm…" Blaire slowly raised that head of hers. "I think I've got an idea," the dog said, simple and to the point.

"That's great," Drake told her.

Chester had to agree. "Exactly. Now…" he leaned over to the side, his hands clasped behind his back. "…Mind telling us this idea of yours?" the Alpine Chipmunk inquired of the Siberian Husky.

A sly smirk made its way across Blaire's lavender-furred muzzle. "It's really rather simple. One of us is going to distract Scarlett while the rest of us slip past her."

"Sounds good," Chester replied. "Only, which of us is going to distract her? Despite what he may say, Drake is injured. Therefore, I don't think it would be a good idea for him to do such a thing. Aurora, maybe?"

Drake glared at the Chipmunk. "What are you talking about? I am perfectly capable of-ouch!" A sudden flash of red hot pain entered his body, radiating from the wound on his foot. Teeth gritted in pain, the tiger leaned against a nearby maple tree.

"That's odd," the tiger commented. "Usually, it doesn't hurt too much unless I step on it hard."

Chester shook his head. "Then that means I was right, right?"

"I suppose so," Drake said, heaving a sigh shortly after.

"Very well then," the chipmunk stated, turning to look at Aurora. "So, think you're up for it?" he asked the wolf.

"I wish I was," the pastel blue-furred Mobian answered, continuing to pant like the tired canine she was. "I'm a little tired after running all the way here."

"Well, I guess it's come down to either you or me, eh Blaire?" Chester asked. He crossed his arms over his chest, and leaned his body to the side, a smug grin on his face.

"That is has. Think you're up for the task?" the Siberian Husky inquired of her mint green-furred friend.

Upon hearing that question, Chester's arms slipped to his side. He then reached up and began scratching the back of his head. "Well, uh, sure. I guess. But, uh, why me?"

"You need the experience," Blaire stated. "Now, I know you're nervous, but it will be good for you. Besides, if you must, you could always use your Scorched Meteor to knock her out," the dog finished, pointing to the Meteor Hammer weaved through the Alpine Chipmunk's belt.

"Well, I guess I could…"

Aurora laid a paw on his shoulders. "Don't worry Chester. I'm sure things will turn out fine-as long as Scarlett is in a good mood that is…" the wolf finished, looking towards the horizon.

"_Yes, let's hope that's the case…"_

* * *

Like a feral lion stalking its prey, Chester Chipston silently made his way towards one Scarlett Cyphon. Crawling on all fours, the Alpine Chipmunk kept himself well hidden in the depths of the tall grass. Every so often, he would slowly, ever so slowly, raise that head of his to see just how far he was from his target-at once point in time, he was almost sighted while doing this. Scarlett had lowered her head, her eyes almost meeting Chester's. Had the green Mobian not ducked just in time, he would have been spotted.

"_So far so good. Scarlett is completely unaware of my presence. Now…" _

Slowly, he loosened his Scorched Meteor from his belt. It was a rather unique Meteor Hammer, given to him by the late Aster Lyont after years of training. Two brass heads, a flame motif around both of them, were tied to either end of an elastic band. This band had been dyed an orange-red color, and was completely inflammable. This was completely unlike the heads, which characteristics to be set on fire enabled Chester to use a variety of attacks involving flames.

Now, right now, the chipmunk didn't need to set the heads ablaze. For though things had been nice and moist lately, he did not want to risk putting the plains on fire. And even though the breeze was gentle, the fact remained that even a small zephyr could cause a rather large bit of trouble.

Once the Scorched Meteor was completely free from the confines of his belt, Chester placed the band between his teeth. He then continued to crawl towards Scarlett. So far, the fox had neither seen, nor heard him.

However, now the Alpine Chipmunk was dragging a Meteor Hammer with him, the thick heads forming small trenches in the ground. And as they did so, the timbre of the grass rustling increased quite a bit, making it easy for Scarlett's hearing to detect.

And detect it she did.

The vixen's ears twitched as a rustling sound entered the canals like a blue jay would a bird house. Sharply, she turned that head of hers, eyes locking on to the emerald green blades of grass in front of her.

"Alright," she began, slowly drawling out that word. "Who goes there? Show yourself!" she commanded, wrapping a paw around the hilt of her sword.

"_Well, I guess this is it,"_ Chester thought, steeling his courage.

All at once, the sound of a hard object pounding against a large boulder filled the air. Scarlett barely had time to move her foot out of the way as Chester swung his Meteor Hammer at it, hitting instead one of the large stones on either side of the Klawxaz Unit lair's entrance.

"Hello Scarlett," the green-furred Mobian said, giving a little wave in greeting.

Suddenly, guard duty did not seem like such a lousy job after all. A smug grin slowly stretched its way across the vulpine's muzzle, revealing a set of sharp ivory teeth. And a pleasant, if not malicious, thought entered the pool of her mind.

"_Ah, it seems as if I'll have a chance to recruit one of Blaire's teammates into the Klawzax Unit. Either that or…"_ the Red Fox unsheathed that longsword of hers. The silver grey blade shimmered in the sunlight as Scarlett held her weapon in front of her.

"_Brutally murder him."_

Scarlett cleared her throat and began to speak. "Well, well, well. If it isn't Chester Chipston. Now, what's an O.R.D agent like you doing on the doorstep of the Klawzax Unit? And without the rest of the team? Could it be," the vixen tilted her head to one side and placed the tip of her sword on top of the right boulder.

"Could it be that you have_ finally_ become wise and decided to support Dr. Robotnik by joining our glorious organization?"

Chester cringed upon hearing those words. "Are you _serious_? Why on Mobius would I support someone who ruins the lives of others?"

"Heh, you still haven't figured it out, have you?"

"Figured what out?"

A sinister chuckle escaped Scarlett's mouth. "You see, it's like this. Why exactly has Robotnik ruined the lives of Mobians, hmm? It's because they don't follow his rule! Now, if everyone supported him, we would not be having these problems!" the fox yelled.

"Oh really?" Chester asked, rolling his eyes. "Did it ever occur to you that Dr. Robotnik is going to keep destroying lives even_ if_ we supported him?"

"And why, pray tell, would that be?"

* * *

Not too far off, the other members of Team K-87, Blaire leading the way, were making their way to the area. Soon, the sight of Chester and Scarlett entered the Siberian Husky's range of vision. With smirk on her face, the dog turned to Aurora and Drake. "Well, it looks like Chester came through for us." She gestured towards the two Mobians conversing.

"As you can see, Scarlett is paying attention to Chester and only him. She is completely unaware of our presence."

Aurora was impressed. "Wow. Good for Chester. Blaire, you should reward him for his bravery."

"I'm not sure it's bravery," the canine whispered with a chuckle, as she slowly began to creep past Scarlett. "He's just doing the job asked of him."

"Either way, I'm still impressed," the Timber Wolf quietly stated.

"Heh, it's easy to impress you Aurora." Drake pointed out, to which the canine only smiled.

"Too true, too true."

* * *

"Because," Chester began, continuing his distractive exchange with Scarlett. "Robotnik takes too much pleasure in tarnishing the lives of Mobians like you and me to just suddenly stop, even if everyone supported him."

A scoff escaped the fox's mouth. "Heh, your logic has such a pathetic fallacy that it's not even funny."

"Of course it's not funny," the chipmunk said, glaring daggers at the vulpine. "I was being completely serious."

With a look of ennui, Scarlett began examining her sword, not even listening to what the Oakland Resistance Agent was saying. "Ho-hum."

Out of the corner of his eye Chester caught sight of Blaire, Drake, and Aurora. By now, the three Mobians had succeeded in getting past Scarlett. But as he saw that his friends had managed to sneak past the Red Fox, the mint-green Mobian wondered just how _he _would get past her.

"_I could always use my Meteor Hammer to whack her over the head like Blaire suggested," _he mused. "_However,"_ he tightened his grip on the Scorch Meteor's elastic band. "_What if I miss? Then Scarlett might come at me with her own weapon. Well…it's a risk I have to take!"_

"Scarlett."

The red-furred vixen, upon hearing her name, finally took her eyes off her sword and looked back at Chester.

"I have finally come to a decision," the Alpine Chipmunk said at last.

"Oh?" Scarlett began, raising an eyebrow. "Did you finally decide to join the Klawzax Unit's ideological organization?"

"Actually," Chester replied, one smooth, sinuous band beginning to swing in a circle by his paws. "That's exactly _not _what I decided!"

"In that case…" Vindictiveness poured from Scarlett's words as a malicious simper grew across the crimson vixen's white furred muzzle. She took a single step forward, her sword held vertically in front of her face.

"…I've no choice but to feed your life force to my sword here."

Green eyes burning with the fire of baleful delight, the Red Fox swung that silver grey longsword in a wide arc. Her target; Either Chester's throat or chest with a rather deep cut. The first would mean instant death. With the second, it would take several minutes to bleed out, but Scarlett didn't care. After all, she did like seeing others suffer.

However, if Chester had to die that day, he was not going to do so without a fight.

Now instead of swinging his Meteor Hammer in a circle, as he had done before, he launched one of the heads towards the blade of his opponent's sword. That supple band wrapped around the weapon, the rubber used to make it strong enough to prevent it from getting severed.

To say that Scarlett was shocked would have been Understatement Number One-she was practically _thunderstruck._ Her eyes locked on her sword blade, now impounded in a rubber prison. With a frantic look on her face, the fox tried to pull the weapon free, her efforts completely futile.

"Wh-what?" was all the spellbound fox uttered.

"Now come on, you didn't think I'd just stand there and let you slaughter me, did you?" Chester ask, leaning forward with a smug grin on his face. With a single, powerful tug, the young Mobian pulled on the band of his hammer. The force of his tug was strong enough to pull Scarlett's sword out of her paws. The bladed weapon landed on the soft grass, though a small part of the hilt did hit a stone with a resounding clank.

"Time to reel this puppy in!" "_Huh, I wager Blaire would give me a look that could freeze lava if I said that when she was nearby," _the Alpine Chipmunk mused, shuddering as he pulled the sword towards him.

"Now wait a minute!" Scarlett cried, running to her longsword. With a graceful sweep of her body, the fox grabbed the hilt.

"Look here, chipmunk!" the red-furred Mobian said, trying once again to free the blade-the band had loosened around it. "If you think I'm going to let you so much as _touch_ my sword…" with a few tugs, she succeeded in freeing the weapon, throwing the band over her shoulder, the head landing on the ground behind her. The vulpine then pointed the sharp blade towards Chester.

"You've got another thing coming!"

"_That's what you think."_

It was quite convenient for young Chester that one of the heads of his Scorched Meteor was now sitting behind his opponent. Such an expediency gave the mint green-furred Mobian a great idea. And with a tug of the band, he launched that brass object up…

_Whack!_

Square in the fox's back was where that head slammed into. The Lieutenant had just enough time to utter a single, pain-filled cry as she fell to the ground, her nose the first to hit the soft grass.

"_And now_…" the green Alpine Chipmunk thought, looping his Scorched Meteor around his shoulder and clenching his fists after.

"I'll be seeing ya! Of course, I sure wouldn't wanna_ be_ ya!" Chester shouted, breaking into what was very likely the fastest run he had ever achieved-there was no way in heck the Oakland Resistance Division was going to give Scarlett a chance to catch up to him.

* * *

The infirmary was located just one hallway down from the point one entered the O.R.D Headquarters. It was a well-kept place, despite the fact that its floor, walls, and ceiling-like the rest of the base-were made of rocks and dirt. Several smaller rooms made up the sanatorium, each with a soft bed for sick and injured agents.

Lying on one such divan, his right foot and a small bit of his tail bound in gauze, was Agent Drake McStrype. Standing right beside him, were Blaire and Aurora.

"Two weeks. Two whole weeks."

That, was how long the doctor had told the tiger to stay off his feet.

"Don't feel too bad, Drake," Aurora said, trying to comfort the yellow-furred feline. "When you think about it, two weeks isn't that long a time."

"Maybe not. But still, I'd rather not just stay in bed all day."

A sudden knock on the door caught the attention of the three Mobians in the room. Fixing the collar of her trench coat, Blaire headed for the entryway. As soon as she got there, the dog wrapped a gloved paw around the brass knob and turned it. With a pull, she opened the wooden door.

"Chester!" the canine shouted happily, happy to see her friend had made it back safely. "Glad to see you made it back alright."

"Believe me Blaire, so am I. Uh, how's Drake?" the Mobian inquired, anxious to learn what his best friend's condition was.

"The doctor told him he had to stay of his feet for a couple weeks. He's not too happy about it, let me tell ya," the violet-furred dog said, giving a quick wink.

Chester chuckled. "Yeah, I imagine he's not."

"Chester."

Now, that chipmunk would have to be two hands short of an analog clock to [i]not[/i] know which Mobian had called his name. Fortunately, such a statement did not describe him, and with a rather large grin on his tan-furred muzzle, he walked over to the bed of one Drake McStrype.

"Hey there man, how are ya feeling?"

The tiger heaved a deep, prolonged sigh as he sat up in his bed. "Eh, not too good. As I told the girls, I would much rather be out in the field then cooped up in bed all day for two whole weeks."

"I figured as much," Chester told him. "But hey, it could be worse." The Alpine Chipmunk paused for a moment to let his statement sink in.

"You could be stuck for two weeks and a day!" he cried, trying to instill some humor into the situation-after all, laughter was, as they say, the best medicine.

However, instead of a series of chortles, giggles, and chuckles, all Chester's joke received was a trio of unanimous "Oh brothers."

* * *

"Now, let me get this straight. Raxton told _you_ of his latest plan…_first?!"_

"That's right Lieutenant. While you were off on guard duty, the Commander was briefing me on his latest plot."

At the current moment, Scarlett and Shrapnel were in the former's room. The fox, still feeling the effects of Chester's Scorched Meteor, had stumbled into her room, hoping she could find something inside to lessen the pain she was feeling. But, as she opened the door, the first thing the vixen noticed was the Sergeant sitting at her desk, a cheeky grin on his face as he gave her a little wave.

As expected from someone of her temper-especially one who had been overpowered by a Mobian chipmunk who was barely an adult-t he vulpine was absolutely furious about Shrapnel being at _her_ desk. But when the fox confronted the weasel, shouting all kinds of insults at him, Shrapnel simply smirked and spoke a statement that made the hot-headed vixen freeze like water on a December night;

_I know what the Commander is planning next._

Back in the present, poor-though, not all Mobians would agree with that, given her reputation-Scarlett was trying to vent out her anger and frustration.

"How on Mobius could this have happened!? I'm Raxton's top officer and how does he repay me for all that I've done? By making me go on guard duty while he tells…" She pointed an accusing finger at Shrapnel. "_You_ about his most recent scheme!"

The Mountain Weasel threw a grenade up and down, that baleful grin still on his muzzle. "Funny how things work out, eh?


	3. Vantage Point

**It's time for a new chapter! I had to rewrite this chapter, seeing as how things got a little......screwy. Though, some of the scenes and dialouge are left pretty much intact, but the ordering of things is a bit different. Anyway, enjoy! Also, note that nothing offical is mine. However, I do own all fan-created works in this fanfic. **

This was the end…

It was supposed to be a simple mission, an in-and-out job for Agent Meryl Hefree. The coyote, a magenta-furred creature, had been assigned to retrieve an object a fellow agent had dropped-it was near the entrance of Robotropolis that the item had been lost. Nothing big. She would have been done in no time flat.

If only she didn't have to walk right above the Klawzax Unit headquarters.

The first sign things were going to go wrong came in the form of a certain Red Fox. Lieutenant Scarlett Cyphon had stood on top of that mound, her face the very picture of someone bored out of their skull. And why not? After all, of all the things she hated, guard duty was certainly one of them-though that was rather low on that list.

The second sign Meryl received that things were not going to end well appeared as a pair of green eyes suddenly locked onto her. The coyote had let out a small gasp, backing up a single foot.

And then there was the third, and last sign. This came as the sensation of cold steel tearing through soft flesh, done without any reason or rhyme. The blade broke vital blood vessels, and sent white-hot pain coursing through the magenta-furred Mobian's body.

Meryl no time to gasp again-in fact, she had no time to make any sound whatsoever, not even one of protest. It all happened so fast. And when it was all over, the coyote did not take the time to even glance at her wound. What she did instead, was to stare right at Scarlett, her face locked in a questioning form.

And the question she showed in her eyes was one that could be condensed into a single word: Why?

But the sight of Scarlett turning around-the coyote managed to get a glimpse of a satisfactory grin on that white muzzle-led Meryl to believe that she was not going to get the answer she so desired to that query. And as she sank to her knees, the world around her beginning to grow dark, the Mobian could only stare in silence.

"_How….why……how did this happen…..?_

Most Mobians would have succumbed to death then and there. But not Meryl, oh no. She figured the least she could do was to save her fellow agents the trouble of mounting a search party to look for her-and save them from the same fate as her.

And as she made her way to the Oakland Resistance Division Headquarters, the canine knew in her heart that this was the end. Yet she wasn't going to let death come so easily to her, at least not before she reached the O.R.D Headquarters.

Her breathing shallow, the coyote made her way to a rather large stone slab surrounded by a circle of oaks-the hidden entrance of the Division. Meryl made her way to a group of lianas hanging from the nearest tree. She wrapped a paw around one of them, and weakly pulled the vine in a westward diagonal motion.

Had things been acting on her strength alone, Meryl would most likely not have pulled that slab open. But thanks to the help of several pulleys, the coyote was able to unveil the entrance to the Oakland Resistance Division. Pausing only when a choking fit hit her, the magenta Mobian slowly made her way down the limestone stairway of the torch-lined cavity.

It was quite fortunate that the Director's office was so close to the entrance-the infirmary too, was just down the hall west of the foyer, yet Meryl knew that going there would be hopeless. She knew well that her chances for survival were completely nill.

However, such a fact did not concern the coyote in the least. All she cared about right now was getting to the Director's Office. And as she felt her life slipping away like water on the back of a duck…she did. A wooden door, the timber sanded into a smooth surface, brass knob polished to a fine luster, stared back at her.

"_Please be in your office,_" the dying coyote wished, raising a clenched fist. She rapped the door with her knuckles, hoping her mental request would be granted.

"Come in," a voice beckoned her, the tone of which could only be Director Alan Retroden's.

"_Thank goodness,_"

Trying to ignore the fact that her field of vision was steadily decreasing, Meryl forced the door open. Inside was the director, as she knew, and fellow agent Fern Stryfont. The Golden Retriever had been giving the Sea Otter the instructions of her mission that day, when they both noticed Meryl entering the room.

Fern was the first to notice the gaping wound in the coyote's chest. Eyes wide in worry, the otter rushed over to her friend's side. "Meryl! What happened?"

The magenta-furred coyote's head swayed in a circular motion as she spoke, eyesight dimming. "Scarlett…got…me…didn't even…. let me try to…defend myself…." she told them, choking in-between words.

"Fern," Director Retroden said suddenly, standing up out of his chair. "Get someone from the infirmary right away!" The canine was quite concerned-Meryl was a great agent and too loose her would be a tragedy to the division.

But the coyote merely shook her head as it was cradled in Fern's arms. "N-no…It's...far…too…late… for…me…." she managed to say, as the mist of death slowly began to cloud those coffee brown eyes of the canine's. But even in the midst of it all, Meryl could not help but crack a smile.

"It......it…was…a…pleasure…working…with…you…all…"

"Meryl…" Fern began, though she knew now her words would make no difference. "You can't die. You have far too much to live for."

Silence. Not a word, not a breath, not a sound slipped from Meryl's mouth. Fern glanced down at the taciturn coyote, and noticed that her eyes were shut tight in death's slumber, confirming the otter's suspicions. With but a sigh of sorrow, the brown-furred Mobian turned to Director Retroden for guidance as she tried to fight the tears that threatened to seep out.

"Too lose such a skilled and loyal member…" Alan began with a mournful tone, walking up to the two Mobians. "This is truly a tragedy. I shall arrange to have her taken downstairs to the morgue as soon as possible. Fern…"

"Yes sir?"

"Find a couple of agents. Tell them they are to go to Robotropolis and retrieve an item one agent left behind-a portable GPS system, one of the few we have on hand. Also," the director made sure to stress this last point to the best of his ability.

"Make sure to tell them to be extremely careful when passing the Klawzax Unit headquarters, and let them know what happened to Meryl. I want to prevent as many unnecessary deaths between my agents as possible."

"Right away director," the Sea Otter replied, as she gently set Meryl's body down.

"_For some reason, I'm getting a bad omen all of a sudden._"

And in truth, the teal-furred otter was feeling a bit worrisome, though she couldn't quite put her finger on what exactly was making her so anxious all of a sudden. Could it have something to do have Meryl's death, she wondered. Quite possibly, though she had no way of knowing for sure…

* * *

It was just Blaire and Chester in their team room that day. With Aurora on a solo mission in a faraway town, and Drake still on bed rest, that left half the quartet to just sit and wait for an order to be given to them.

In the meanwhile, Chester decided to start a conversation, in hopes that chatting with Blaire would help to pass the time. "Do you remember my older sister?" the Alpine Chipmunk asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

Blaire tilted her head to one side and asked. "You mean Macy? Yes, I remember her. She left Oakland shortly after you became an O.R.D. agent. "

"Well, I just got a letter from her this morning. She wrote that she had a new fiancé."

At that statement, a large smile made her way across the Siberian Husky's lavender muzzle-it warmed her heart to now that even in these tough times, Mobians still tried to lead semi-normal lives. "Why that's great! She deserves some congratulations, I'd say."

"Yes, that's what I thought. That's why I was a bit late-trying to write a letter congratulating her. She even asked me if I wanted to come to the wedding. I wrote that I'd be only too happy to."

"And when is the wedding being held?" the violet-furred canine inquired, to which Chester simply shrugged.

"They haven't set a date yet. Though, they are considering-"

All at once, the tell-tale sound of someone knocking on wood could be heard from outside. Knowing someone was at the door, Blaire-in the middle of pulling out the container containing her chocolate mints-practically leapt from her seat and ran towards the entrance of the room. A few seconds later, a gloved paw wrapped around the bronze knob, the door opening as the knob was twisted.

"Fern!" the violet furred dog cried out, a bright smile lining her lavender muzzle. "What brings you here?"

Instead of returning the grin however, the teal-furred Sea Otter simply looked towards the husky with a rather disconsolate look.

"Fern?" Blaire muttered, a slight look of confusion on her face.

"Meryl's dead."

"Meryl Hefree?" Chester inquired, taking a step forward, one arm outstretched slightly. He stood in that pose for a moment, his mouth agape in shock. With a twist of his head, almost as if there was some sort of switch located in his neck, the program it was attached to partially controlling his movements, he soon snapped out of his alarm, however, and continued to head over to Fern.

"How, what happened?" the mint green Mobian asked, his words the exact ones Blaire-who at moment was standing there with a mournful look on her violet-furred countenance-had floating around in the pool of her mind.

Fern was quick to reply. "She was killed thanks to a chest wound inflicted by Scarlett. However, she actually did survive long enough to get back here."

At that statement, a hard scowl appeared on Blaire features. "Oh, is that what happened, is it? The Klawzax Unit is quite the bunch of hypocrites. They say that we all should follow Dr. Robotnik's rule to prevent the lives of Mobians from being destroyed. Yet, they kill those who do not follow their ideals. And to kill someone like Meryl, who was not only a great agent, but a friend to all..." turning around, the canine paused for a moment, as she tried to calm herself down.

"And that's not all," the wolf suddenly said.

"What do you mean?" Chester inquired.

"I mean," the Sea Otter began. "Is that there was another reason I'm here at your door. You see, the boss asked me to find a couple of agents to give a mission to-the very same one Meryl was assigned to."

"What are we supposed to do?" Blaire asked, now adopting a business air about her.

"It's quite simple, really. You see, an agent brought along one of the few portable GPS Systems we had on a mission. However, the guy kind of lost the item near the entrance of Robotropolis."

"And we have to retrieve it, I take it?" the violet-furred Mobian inquired.

"Precisely."

"In that case," Blaire turned to the mint green chipmunk standing next to her. "Come on Chester. We have a job to do."

"Righto Blaire," the young Mobian said, giving a quick salute. But as the two began to leave, Fern grabbed Blaire's shoulder with surprising quickness.

The purple Siberian Husky looked at the otter with extreme puzzlement showing on her visage. "Fern…what?"

"I'm coming with you," the teal-furred Mobian stated, a smirk on her grey-furred muzzle.

"Now Fern, you don't need to-" Blaire began, before she was cut off by the Sea Otter.

"Now, now, Blaire. I understand where you're coming from. But with Aurora on a mission in another town and Drake still out of commission, I think an extra set of paws would help a lot."

"You have a point there Fern," the canine stated. "And even though my team can still be successful without a couple members-heck, we've even had plenty of solo missions in our time! But, a bit of help from a member of another team isn't something I'm going to shun. Think you're up for it?"

The Sea Otter shrugged her shoulders. "Eh, it's supposed to be a rather simple job-provided we stay as far away from the Klawzax Unit headquarters as possible."

"That's going to be a bit difficult to do," Chester pointed out. "We've tried to go around many a time. Sometimes it works, usually it doesn't."

"Either way, let's hope all goes well on this assignment. I suggest we all watch our backs on this mission." Blaire stated, sighing deeply.

"You…you just killed her right off? You didn't even give her a chance to defend herself?"

"Were you not listening to a word I said? That was only half right. Yes, I didn't give her a chance to defend herself. However, she somehow managed to survive my attack."

Agent Rusty Lamogren sat opposite of Scarlett Cyphon at the latter's desk, the two discussing recent events that had transpired that morning. But this surprisingly friendly conversation between them didn't start out with an equally friendly wave and 'hello'. No, things began very differently indeed.

It had all started when Commander Raxton had asked Rusty to relieve Scarlett from her guard duty. However, the rabbit soon found out that the Red Fox had abandoned her post, as would be expected of her. Rusty, quite nervous in the presence of the Lieutenant, approached her with a feeling of foreboding.

"Lieutenant," he began, barely remembering what good it would do to call Scarlett by her title. Upon hearing his voice, the red-furred canine turned around to look at Rusty. The lagomorph crossed his fingers behind his back, hoping that whatever Scarlett did to him would not be _too_ merciless.

He was most certainly not prepared for what came next.

The rabbit had expected Scarlett to come at him, sword flashing, eyes burning with baleful hatred. And if not that, then there was always the chance of her giving him a murderous glare. However, the Red Fox did neither of the two. Instead, she turned her head, one eyebrow raised. And, not one hint of malicious intent shone in those emerald green eyes.

For a while, all was quiet between the two Mobians as they stared each other down. It was Scarlett who broke the silence, her voice full not of anger, but it was one that could have very easily been used by someone who was quite proud of someone.

"That brain of yours finally decided to do its job, huh Rusty?"

"Huh?" the lagomorph asked, quite offended by that remark-of course, for the benefit of his health, he decided not to say anything about that.

"I can't remember the last time you actually referred to me by my title," Scarlett explained.

"_Actually, that was only a week ago, I believe. You probably don't remember because you couldn't hear me over your talk of how I never call you 'Lieutenant.' This talk happened to happen after I mistakenly forgot to refer to you by your title, as I have a tendency to do,_" Rusty thought to himself, inwardly rolling his eyes.

"So, what is it you wish to ask of me?" the fox had inquired, eventually leading into the conversation the two were now having. And in this present moment, Rusty continued their talk;

"So, why exactly did you kill that coyote anyway?"

"I was given a direct order by Raxton himself to slaughter any and all O.R.D Agents that come by here. That, and I was bored. I hate guard duty," Scarlett said with a sigh, resting her chin on her paw. As she thought about this, however, the red-furred Mobian was suddenly struck with a delightfully evil idea.

"Say Agent Rusty," Scarlett began, rising up out of her chair. "How would you like to take over the job of Base Guard?"

At that request, the brown rabbit took a step back. "Um, thanks for the offer, Scar-I mean Lieutenant, but I don't think I'd be any good at it."

"Nonsense!" Scarlett cried, gently pushing the lagomorph out of the room. "I'm sure you'll be just grand at it!"

"But I…"

However, Scarlett did not hear the rest of Rusty's protest, for at that moment, she shoved him out of the room. As she slammed the door behind her, the fox then proceeded to turn on her heels and leaned against the wall, letting a deep, prolonged sigh escape her.

"Now why on Mobius didn't I think of doing that before? Rusty's the perfect victim for this kind of 'torture'-weak, extremely obedient, fearful. It makes perfect sense! And now, I can relax while I try and think of a way to take down a certain Siberian Husky. And maybe…"

The fox allowed a sinister smirk to cross her white snout. "Maybe even the entire Division."  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

A few trees were scattered around the area, most evergreen pines. Most were no taller than seven feet. But there was one…It was a grand twenty-footer. The needles were a deep and healthy shade of green, owing to its long life. The branches were thick and sturdy, with not one sliver of bark peeling from them. It was an imposing object, one that few Mobians would have the courage to try and scale it.

And Chester was one of those few.

The chipmunk was a superb climber, having been scale objects ever since he was a toddler who had managed to climb out of his play pen. He could scale brick walls with little difficulty and without the use of climbing equipment. Like Blaire with her Cyrokinesis, Aurora with her speed, and Drake with his strength, climbing came naturally to him.

As of this very moment, Chester had halfway ascended up that pine. Blaire had asked him to serve as a lookout, a job which the Alpine Chipmunk was more than happy to do upon sighting the pine tree. As he climbed, Chester accidently disturbed a nest-one full of the feral versions of his own species. The small chipmunks scattered over to the furthest branches, shocked at the sight of this giant version of them.

"_Heh, you'd think they'd never seen the Mobian form of themselves before,_" Chester thought with a chuckle.

A short while later, the green-furred chipmunk had reached the very top of the pine tree. The tip of the evergreen swayed beneath Chester's weight. Had he not had a tight grip on a branch, he would have most certainly plummeted to the ground, resulting in an unfortunate end for the young Mobian.

"_Okay…that was way too close for my tastes…_"

Chester took a moment to catch his breath. That done, he then carefully leaned forward, making sure to keep a tight grip on a sturdy branch. It was then that the sight of a brown-furred rabbit garbed in black vest, white arm bands, and blue shoes. In other words, Rusty Lamogren.

"We're in luck guys!" Chester called out to the pair of Mobians below. "The only one guarding the entrance is Rusty!"

Both Blaire and Fern let out a collective sigh. Compared to some of the other Unit Agents-Scarlett and Shrapnel immediately came to mind-Rusty was child's play. The O.R.D agents would have no problem dealing with that rabbit, no problem at all.

"Chester!" the Siberian Husky called to the Alpine Chipmunk in the tree. "Try and see if you meet us at Robotropolis!"

"_That shouldn't be too much trouble,_" Chester thought, beginning his descent from the pine.

Rusty paced back and forth in front of the base headquarters, beads of nervous sweat pouring down his face. He remembered now the reason why he dreaded guard duty. The first, and last, time he was ordered to take the post, there was quite a fair bit of trouble, resulting in the loss of a few agents, all of them members of the Klawzax Unit.

Before that day, Rusty had been a completely different Mobian; full of pride and ambition. But after that moment? The site of Scarlett slowly approaching him with that sword still brought a shiver down his spine. It was only thanks to Shrapnel interfering that the rabbit was still alive. He never figured out exactly why the weasel had stopped the fox from killing him, but he was grateful for that. He never had the same fear for Shrapnel as he had for Scarlett.

"Ahem."

Hearing that, Rusty looked to his left. And there, his brown eyes met the green ones of Fern Stryfont.

"Why hello there," the Sea Otter said with a smile and a wave. "How's it going? Listen, do you mind stepping out of the way? My friend and I-"

The teal-furred Mobian felt a sharp object nick the area of skin just below her neck. Rusty had pointed a rapier at Fern, a rare look of semi-bravery on his brown-furred visage.

"Take one step closer…I promise you you're death will be far more painful than it would be if you had just stayed where you are!" the rabbit challenged.

A smirk crossed Blaire's muzzle. She leaned on her Sapphire Blade. "I think he's testing us, don't you Fern?"

"Ah yes, I believe he is Blaire."

"Only one way to find out," the husky responded. Prepared to use her saber to block any attacks Rusty might make, she took a single step forward. Surprisingly, the lagomorph did not retaliate.

"Actually," he began. "I was talking to the otter over there when I mentioned what would happen if she took one more step. Things are going to work out a little different for you, Blaire?"

The canine raised an eyebrow, paws planted on her hips. "Oh? How so?"

"Well, as you know, Scarlett has taken special interest in you. Calls you, I believe, a 'menace to the Unit's goal. And, she wants to personally terminate you." From inside his vest, Rusty produced a rope of good length.

"So, I'd figure I'd help her out. I'll tie you up, drag you to Scarlett's personal lair, and allow her to eliminate you in whatever way she deems fit. "

"_Plus, it may get me on her good side._"

"What do you say about that?" the rabbit asked, a proud grin on his face.

Blaire was quick to answer. "It's a nice plan, but you forgot one important detail."

Rusty was about to ask what the violet-furred Mobian meant by that, when something slammed in-between his ears. The rabbit swayed back in forth for a moment, his tongue slightly sticking out of the side of his mouth. Finally, the Klawzax Agent crashed into the bushes, rustling the leaves and branches within.

Chester stood over the cataleptic figure, a grin on his muzzle as he spun one of the heads of his Scorched Meteor around in a circle.

"I guess the rumors of that lagomorph having a soft head were right," the chipmunk remarked.

Fern clapped the mint green-furred Mobian on the shoulder. "Nicely done Chester. Excellent work."

"Why thank you Fern," the Alpine Chipmunk said, giving a little bow.

"Yes, good job pal," Blaire said with a smile. "Now, shall we head to Robotropolis?"

"Sounds like a plan to me," the Sea Otter replied, giving a little wink. "Let's go!"  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Scarlett Cyphon ascended the steps of the base, a wide smile plastered on her white muzzle-a rather malicious one at that. The fox was in rather high spirits today. After all, she had started the day off by killing a member of the Oakland Resistance Division. Not only that, but she had 'talked' Rusty into taking over the post for guard duty.

And speaking of the rabbit, Scarlett had decided that now would be as good a time as any to relieve him. She had let him stay there for a good half hour longer then was necessary-in her mind she felt that it would be a good character building experience.

"I wonder how well he did on this assignment. Perhaps he's taken down one of those pesky O.R.D agents?" She shook her head. "Nah. I seriously doubt that. I just hope he didn't mess up too much."

The light of the outside world greeted her as she stepped out of the base. A light breeze blew past, ruffling her fur. However, the vulpine paid it no mind. For there was something else that had caught her attention-the sight of Rusty lying unconscious in the grass.

"_Oh no. He didn't…_"

Seething with anger, Scarlett approached the rabbit's still form, and kicked him in the side, hard. That punt jolted Rusty awake, surprising him greatly and causing him to cry out in pain. With a wide-eyed look, the brown-furred Mobian scampered around this way and that, trying to figure out what exactly had happened.

Black boots entered his field of vision, something Rusy would rather not have seen. Stealing his nerves, the rabbit looked up to see Scarlett staring at him. A rather displeased look was present on her face.

"Ah, Lieutenant, how nice to see you again. And so soon too! So, who is going to be-not the ears, not the ears, yow!"

Not paying any mind to his cries of pain, Scarlett grasped those long ears of Rusty's and pulled the rabbit up so that his eyes met hers. The fox could see the look of sheer terror in his eyes. It was this that gave her some semblance of satisfaction about the whole thing.

"Agent Rusty, what the heck happened? Answer me clearly and don't spend too much time thinking of an excuse. Because that sometimes mean one is lying."

"_Or frightened like there's no tomorrow._' the rabbit thought.

Scarlett asked again. Well? What happened?"

"It was all that husky's fault! She and this otter just walked right up to the entrance, neither of them paying any mind to my warnings. Then, something hit me in the back of the head. I blacked out after that."

The fox wasn't pleased in the least as she sharply pulled Rusty closer to her face. "The husky?! Do you mean to tell me that _Blaire_ was here? And that you failed to capture her?!"

The lagomorph meekly nodded, desperately wishing Scarlett would let go of his ears. His mental wish was granted, as the vixen loosened her grip, sending the rabbit to the ground.

"Where'd she go?" Scarlett asked, pointing a gloved finger at him.

"I don't know exactly," Rusty stuttered, fiddling with his vest collar. "But if I had to hazard a guess, I'd say…" he paused and shrugged his shoulders.

"…Robotropolis?"

Scarlett didn't stay a moment longer-in a flash, she was off, the soles of her ivory boots pounding against the dirt and grass. She felt that this time, she'd put that Siberian Husky out, permanently.

Smoke billowed from the stacks atop the factories, painting the sky a sinister, unwelcoming black. In fact, the entire area looked like something out of an apocalyptic movie. Buildings lay in ruins, the bricks and glass that once made them up broken and scattered about. Those edifices that were still standing were but a dull blue or black.

SWATbots patrolled the streets, and Surveillance Orbs the sky. Roboticized Mobians walked along, totally against their will. They knew they had not much control over their actions-whatever Robotnik ordered they had to go along with. Whether they agreed with it or not.

Blaire, Chester, and Fern were situated near the southern entrance of the city. It was here were that the portable GPS system had been dropped.

"Now, how close was the agent to the entrance when he dropped the device?" Blaire inquired of Fern.

"Ah. Well, I don't really have much of a clue, I'm sorry to say," the Sea Otter admitted. "But I do have a clue as to what we could be doing right now."

"Oh? And what would that be?" asked Chester, wondering just what the teal-furred Mobian had in mind.

"I suggest we split up and each check different areas of this side of Robotropolis. The device will be three times as easier to find then."

Blaire nodded in approval. "Sounds good to me. And if either us come across either the GPS System, or any trouble, we can use our comlinks to help keep in touch."

The Alpine Chipmunk spoke up. "Ah yes, a very nice idea. Let's just hope we don't run into any danger. I'd hate for either one of us to end up like Meryl."

Owning to species natural swiftness, it did not take all too long for Scarlett to arrive in Robotropolis. Upon reaching the dismal city, the first thing that Red Fox saw was Fern. The Sea Otter had decided to inspect the mid-section of that south entrance. As of that moment, the teal Mobian was lifting a few chunks of sheet metal up, scanning the ground underneath each piece.

"_Now what could she be doing? Ah no matter. It's Blaire I came for. I can get this otter after I take care of that husky._" the vulpine thought, slowly making her way towards the south-east portion of the conurbation.

It was there that she spotted Chester. The Alpine Chipmunk was busy looking in between the walls of what had formally been the houses of a neighborhood. Such a sight prompted raised eyebrows from Scarlett.

"_Him too? What is up with those Division Agents scampering through metallic junk like that? What, are they having a scavenger hunt or something? I mean, come on!_" the fox wondered, resting a gloved paw on her forehead.

"_Why do I have a feeling that, when I find Blaire, this whole thing is going to be repeated with her?_"

The leader of Team K-87 was situated on the south-west section of the border between Robotropolis, and the outside world. Like her fellow agents before her, she too was searching. Blaire checked the dusty asphalt road, her eyes locked down.

"_Ah-ha, there she is. And just like a thought-she's doing the same thing as that otter and the chipmunk. Well, she isn't exactly looking through anything. But the principle is the same, I can tell that much. And now…_" Silently, Scarlett pulled her sword out of its scabbard.

"_…Is the time to strike._"

Slowly, the Red Fox made her way towards the Siberian Husky. Her bushy tail twitched in anticipation of the deed she was about to do. Before the sun had set today, the blood of Blaire Fields would stain the streets of Robotropolis.

"_So long Blaire. It was nice knowing you. Heh, yeah right._"

The sound of footfalls gently tapped on the eardrums of the dog. She wondered just who that was, glancing behind her out of the corner of her eyes. A quick flash of sharp steel caught her attention. In a jiffy, she ducked and weaved out of the way, as the blade of a sword threatened to cut off her head.

"SWATbots don't have bladed weapons. That means there can only be one explanation," Blaire said, turning to face her assailant. Just as she figured-the one she was looking at just so happened to be a red-furred fox.

"Scarlett, Scarlett, Scarlett," the purple-furred Mobian stated, her voice dripping with collectiveness. She certainly wasn't fazed by her rival's attempt to kill her-the vixen had tried that so many times, it no longer surprised the husky.

"When are you ever going to learn that your attempts to kill me just won't work?"

"Can it, husky. If you weren't blessed with lightning fast reflexes, I'd have gotten you a long time ago," Scarlett responded, anger present in her eyes.

"That's not all I was blessed with," Blaire reminded her, referring to her Cryokinesis.

"Yes, I know. You can use ice powers. However," that fox raised a finger in the air. "You can only use said powers when it's thirty-two degrees Fahrenheit out. And right now, I would estimate the current temperature somewhere in the mid-sixties. No way would you be able to use Cryokinesis right now."

The dog raised an eyebrow. "Don't rub it in. Besides, there is another form of battle techniques that I can do regardless of how hot or cold it is around me."

"_Of course, extremely hot temperature tends to weaken me considerably, but I shall ignore that fact right now._"

"You talking about sword-fighting?" Scarlett asked, one paw planted on her hip.

Blaire leaned against her own saber, a smug grin on her visage. "Precisely."

_Clang!_

Steel met steel as the vixen moved to slice open Blaire's chest. However, the husky had been anticipating such an action-or at least a similar one. With that, she quickly countered Scarlett's sword with her own. Next, the husky, ducked underneath the fox's longsword, and started spinning around in a tight circle.

Scarlett stepped away, but not before receiving a couple cuts along her left leg and one right above her waist. "_The old Slicing Twister routine? How very nice. But while she's spinning like that…_"

_Slash!_

The sword tip severed through fur and flesh, not to mention blood vessels. Blaire let out what could be described as a cross between a yelp and a gasp. She stopped spinning almost immediately. Looking down, the canine could see the wound that stretched down her left arm. It was a deep gash at that, as evidenced by the showing of muscles in key areas.

"_…She won't be able to see my own attacks coming at her._" Scarlett mused, finishing her previous thought.

Through her blue eyes, Blaire glared at the Red Fox in front of her. "_Better be more careful should I decide to use the Slicing Twister maneuver again. Now the Uppercut Slash,_ she allowed herself a small chuckle.

"_That's a move where I won't have a problem._"

Swiftly, the Siberian Husky ducked-just as fast, she shot back up again, her Sapphire Blade cutting a long gash along Scarlett's left side. However, Blaire didn't get off as easily as she thought she would. For before the tip of that saber cut through her shoulders, the red-furred vulpine attempted to thrust her own sword into the husky's chest.

For the most part, Blaire managed to avoid the attack. However, while the sword didn't cut through skin, it did slice through cloth. The canine felt her trench coat snag on something as she tried to sidestep out of harm's way.

"_Well, better my clothes then my body itself,_" the dog thought, rolling her eyes at the sight of steel sticking out of cloth. With a twist of her body, she tore herself out of this little trap Scarlett had 'unintentionally' set for her.

"Heh, I doubt you meant to do that exactly the way you did it," Blaire stated, a smirk on her lavender-furred muzzle.

"You could say that."

A flash of green caught the eyes of one Fern Stryfont. Fingers crossed in hopefulness, the teal-furred sea otter ducked into an open window of a decrepit stone building. Inside, she could see chipped bricks, broken glass, and what must have once been a couch.

And there, caught under a plate of glass, lay the GPS System.

"Yes!" Fern said, bringing a clenched fist down in victory.

"Well, what do you know? That _was_ a pretty easy mission. Now to radio the others so we can head home," the otter told herself, reaching for her comlink. She switched it on, ignoring the static that came through.

"Blaire? You there? It's Fern. Come in."

At first, the static was the only thing she could hear. However, several seconds later, the otter heard steel clanking together. After taking just another moment to listen closer, Fern spoke up again;

"Blaire? You okay? Where are you?"

Silence. And then…

"Fern? Yes, sorry about that, but I can't-whoa! Talk right now-yikes. I'm in a bit of a-ouch! Predicament right now," came the voice at the other end of the line.

Though she wasn't sure if it was the greatest of ideas at the moment, the otter still felt she had to ask a few things.

"First of all, you haven't told me where you are. Second, what is this 'predicament' you are referring to?"

"I'm on the south-western section of the border, fighting Scar-ack!"

Static. Nothing but pure static. Wide-eyed with worry, Fern resumed talking.

"Blaire, you still there? Blaire? Come in, will you? Oh man…this sure isn't a good omen…"

If the thought of Blaire being dead crossed Fern's mind, well it was understandable, but very much incorrect. For at Siberian Husky was still very much alive. As she was talking to Fern, the canine noticed Scarlett's sword coming at her. This time, the blade was aimed at her face. Through some quick maneuvering, the dog managed to dodge the attack.

However, Scarlett's sword managed to hit Blaire's comlink, knocking it loose. The communications device fell, clattering on the asphalt road.

"_Drat,_" the husky muttered, glancing down at where the comlink lay. "_Well, at least it didn't break in half when it hit the ground._" she mused. "_Now, back to the match at paw._"

"Well, what a stroke of luck," Scarlett began, a rather pleased look on her red-furred visage. "Now you can't call those friends of yours for help."

"While that maybe so, I did manage to tell Fern where I am," Blaire reminded the fox, who just smirked.

"That doesn't matter. You'll be dead long before she gets here." The Klawzax officer raised her sword, aiming to slice through Blaire's head. However, before Scarlett could bring the weapon down, a fluorescent blue light came towards it at blinding speed. It hit the silver blade with full force, the reflective property of the blade causing the ray to bounce right off.

Mere seconds later saw Blaire and Scarlett staring at a smoking hole in the wall of a decaying building. It was shortly after _that_ when a digital, monotone voice reached their ears:

_**Intruder Alert! Detain by order of Robotnik!**_

Turning their heads in surprise, the two canines found themselves staring right at the hulking mass of a SWATbot. The humanoid machine had a laser-laden wrist pointed right at the Red Fox. Scarlett was quick to notice this, and was desperately considering shoving Blaire in the path of the laser that was inevitably coming. In fact, she would have done so, had it not been for the fact that said husky had leapt out of the way-just as a laser came towards them. Scarlett ducked down, pressing her body as flat against the asphalt road as she could manage.

The beam passed over her, barely missing her ear tips. As the fox rose from her position like a disembodied spirit rising from the grave, she chanced to look behind her. It was there that she saw Blaire fleeing from the scene.

But Scarlett herself was not about to run like some confirmed coward. No. No, she would stand her ground, and get to the bottom of this!

A glare of anger in her emerald eyes, the red-furred vulpine addressed the SWATbot. "Look here pal. I believe your programming is seriously messed up. Back there? You pointed that laser at _me_ when you _should_ have been pointing it at _Blaire_! You know, the husky? Violet fur, trench coat, stuff like that?"

_**Intruder Alert! Detain by order of Robotnik!**_

The fox threw her hands up in the well-known, 'who me?' position. "Now hold on a second! I'm on your side! Well, actually Robotnik's side, but you _are_ one of his creations. You can't shoot me."

_**Intruder Alert! Detain by order of Robotnik!**_

With a sigh, Scarlett crossed her arms over her chest. By this time, she was getting rather annoyed. "Is that all you can say?"

_**You are under arrest. Surrender now.**_

"Ah, glad to know that you in fact are capable of saying other things," the vulpine stated. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a Siberian Husky to stab."

All at once, sparks began flying, several landing less than an inch besides Scarlett. She screamed once in surprise, turning on her heels in the process. "What on Mobius?" There was a distinctive clanging sound, as if something metal had hit the streets. A dome-shaped object rolled past her like a wheel, a strip of red glass in the center.

And there, standing behind that disembodied SWATbot, was Oakland Resistance Division Agent Blaire Fields.

She had her Sapphire Blade held out besides her, and a smug grin on her visage. "_Ah yes, how clever of me to get behind that SWATbot and attack it from there. Heh, I'll bet Scarlett thought I was a coward and ran off. Yeah right._"

"_This is going to be rewarding. I can feel it._"

Fern sprinted through the streets of Robotropolis, the soles of her boots pounding against the asphalt making up the road. The Sea Otter had one goal, and one goal only-making sure Blaire and Chester were alright. She had called the latter moments ago-he was fine, hiding out in a building to avoid detection from the SWATbot patrol that had arrived.

That just left Blaire.

"_She didn't answer me when I tried to reach her on her comlink the second time. I hope she's alright. The last time I talked to her, she was in the middle of saying something, a single word, it was. But what was it?_" Not slowing down, Fern racked her mind for the answer to her query;

What had Blaire been trying to say?

A pair of SWATbots loomed up ahead, their wrists pointed right at the young Mobian.

_**Surrender now, by the order of Doctor Robotnik!**_

"If it's all the same to you…" Fern reached inside the inner pocket of her vest and produced a Colt .56. Half her body facing the robots, and the other half facing forward, the teal-furred Mobian aimed the handgun at the SWATbots. Still running, she pulled the trigger, sending a now discharged bullet at the leftmost metallic menace.

Lead tore through metal and circuitry, much as a baseball would a glass window. Only with far more sparks involved. Several of which sprang like jumping beans onto the SWATbot's companion. And when that happened…

Fern had to turn her head and shield her eyes as a wave of blinding like came at her. "Wow, talk about killing two SWATbots with one bullet!" she called out to herself, a small chuckle escaping her mouth.

It was then that a familiar flash of green caught her eyes. The Sea Otter gave a shrill whistle, surprising the young Alpine Chipmunk. Fur ruffled as if he had received an electric shock, Chester turned around.

"_That better not be a-_" He visibly relaxed when he saw the teal-furred Mobian running towards him.

"Oh Fern," he began, placing a hand to his chest and blowing out a breath of relief. "I thought you were some kind of robot."

The Otter never broke her stride. "No time for that Chester. Right now we have to help Blaire. I have a feeling she's in danger."

Blaire was beginning to wish that she _had_ just ran off when that one SWATbot appeared. For shortly after dispatching that one robot, several more had appeared. By the canine's calculation, there were at least a dozen of the humanoid robots that constantly caused dilemmas for Freedom Fighters everywhere.

And through the cacophony of laser fire, Blaire stood her ground, hacking and slashing through dark grey metal. Sparks flew everywhere, some getting on the canine's fur, which she quickly pawed out.

Scarlett too, was fighting. However, it wasn't just the SWATbots she was after. "_Come on Blaire, just a little closer,_" the red-furred vixen mentally encouraged, waiting for just the right moment to strike.

However, Blaire never gave the Lieutenant the chance she wanted. For one thing, the Siberian Husky was always just out of reach of Scarlett's sword. For another, there was still those SWATbots to contend with. After all, it's hard to concentrate on trying to kill another Mobian when one is surrounded by laser fire.

"_Okay then, first I'll get rid of these robots. Then I'll be free to take down Blaire._" Scarlett thought, ducking to avoid being charred by an oncoming laser.

_Surrender intruder! By order of Robotnik!_

"I don't think so," Blaire replied, a smirk crossing her muzzle as she pulled out her SIG Sauer. With one pull of the trigger, she dispatched the very SWATbot that had made that comment. It was this move that effectively brought the robot count down to half of what it was before.

A flash of white hot pain suddenly radiated from Blaire's left shoulder. Teeth gritted to keep from crying out, the Siberian Husky roughly turned her head. Behind her, she could see the reason behind her recent wound; yet another SWATbot.

"Oh, now you're going to get it," the canine warned, a smirk on her muzzle-despite the pain she felt, the violet-furred dog still remained calm, cool, and collected. Quite the opposite of the red-furred fox not too far away from her;

Scarlett crept closer to Blaire, not a sound escaping from her. The vixen's shoulders were tense, and her tail kept as still as wood. All at once, a SWATbot opened fire on her. The fox ducked to avoid the first round, the laser harmlessly sailing over her like a mere insect.

"Puh, too easy," she whispered, brushing back her ears.

Those could have been considered famous last words, because they almost were her last words. A fluorescent blue beam came after her like the ray of the morning sun. Only instead of soothing warmth rushing through her body, aggravating pain coursed through the fox's system after hitting her in the side. Flesh tore apart as the laser went through like a baseball does a window.

Scarlett allowed herself a single cry of pain, before clamping a paw over her mouth. Clutching at her wound with the other paw, the Lieutenant sank to her knees, her breath coming in short bursts.

"That robot is going to pay for that," Oh it's going to pay _dearly!_"

Teeth bared in an irate snarl and blood-red tint seeping through her eyes, the vixen located the SWATbot responsible for the burning pain she now felt.

"_Oh yes, is that thing going to pay, oh yes._"

Meanwhile, Blaire approached the SWATbot who's laser had caused _her_ injury. That composed look was still visible as she spoke. "Excuse me, but I do believe…," she pointed to the gash on her left shoulder.

"…That you are responsible for this."

_Surrender intruder. You are under arrest by the order of Doctor Robotnik!_

"Oh I am, am I? Well let me ask you this simple question; how are you going to arrest me if you're in pieces?"

_Surrender,_ was all the humanoid robot said, as it readied its laser.

The Siberian Husky leaned over, interlinking her fingers. "Aw, you didn't answer my question," she spoke, her voice full of innocence, a wide smile on her muzzle.

_Slash!_

One swing of her saber was all it took. One swing and the SWATbot's left leg was disconnected from its body. Without that limb keeping it balanced, the robot was free to fall to the ground, landing with a resounding clank.

On Blaire's visage was the very picture of calm satisfaction. In fact, her entire being held an aura of unruffled composure. The muscles in her body were as unperturbed as the sea on a fair weather day. Her eyes reflected the clearness of the sky on a cloudless day. Her fur lay flat on her body. Her ears were erect, though not at all stiff with alert.

If there was an epitome of calmness, its spirit must have gotten mixed with the very soul of the Siberian Husky.

"Ah yes, I do love the taste of victory. Tastes rather sweet today."

Things were a _little_ different with Scarlett.

Like Blaire, she too had won her battle with a SWATbot. As the robot began to fire a laser at the fox, she ran behind it. With a grunt, Scarlett thrust her sword into the back of the robot. Showers of sparks exploded from the SWATbot, as it fell to the asphalt below.

And yet…and yet the Red Fox wasn't satisfied.

While Blaire's face had shown complete composure and satisfaction, Scarlett's countenance showed…nothing. Not an ounce of emotion was present in her face-her emerald eyes were about as dull as untarnished silver. There was no joy, there was no sorrow, there was no anger, there was nothing.

"_It's just a SWATbot. Hardly worth a fuss over. I want the __real__ prize._"

Scarlett looked back at Blaire. The dog was busy fending off the remaining SWATbots, never giving a single inch to her foes.

"_Yes. Soon, it will be my chance to get rid of that blasted husky once and for all! And when I do, the Division will be next!_"

Something burned.

Somewhere, close by, something burned.

"_What? Did a spark from a dismembered robot catch something on fire?_" Scarlett asked herself, as the aroma of fire filled her nostrils.

And then…a crash.

Then another.

Then more.

"Hi-ya!"

Hearing that scream caused the fox to turn on her heels in surprise, blade at the ready. Even Blaire had grown tense with alertness at the sound. However, both of them could not shake off the fact that the voice sounded strangely familiar. And then there was that burning smell…

"Chester?"

It was Blaire who got hit with the sense of realization first. Sure enough, when she turned her head to where the scent had come from, there was the Alpine Chipmunk.

"That's me," he replied with a grin, holding his Meteor Hammer by the band. One of the brass heads burned with a brilliant show of flames. Standing next to him, gun in paw, was Fern. And behind both Mobians was a tangled mess of SWATbots.

"Boy, am I glad to see you two," Blaire remarked, a slight smirk on her snout.

"You didn't think I'd leave you behind when you were in trouble, did you?" Fern asked, giving a little wink.

"Heh, not at all, Fern. Not at all. Thanks for the help you two," the husky stated, laying a paw on her friends' shoulders.

Chester scratched the back of his head, a nervous chuckle escaping him. "Don't mention it."

"_Now's my chance._"

Thanks to the chipmunk and the otter, the SWATbots had all but been defeated. And with no pesky robots to get in her way, Scarlett would have an easier time killing Blaire. However, there _were_ the dog's friends to contend with.

"_I'll just kill them after I get rid of Blaire. Yes, that'll work._"

Fern was the first to notice the murderous glint in the Red Fox's eyes. She gently elbowed Blaire to get her attention. "Don't look now," she whispered, "But ol' Scarlett's in one of her 'kill' moods again."

"I'll try and reason with her," Blaire murmured back, patting the hilt of her saber. With a swift twist of her body, the husky found herself facing the vulpine.

"Ah Scarlett, my old nemesis. How about you kindly let me and my friends through, m'kay?" the purple canine asked trying to be polite as possible-if the fox's sword didn't kill her, putting on this respectful act would.

The vixen pondered this for a moment. There was no way Blaire was getting out of the city alive. But what of the other two? Should she just murder them as well? Or, would it be better to let Chester and Fern live, let them be the ones to break the news of Blaire's death to the Division? But of course! The Oakland Resistance's moral would plummet without their champion! And then, things would go swimmingly for the Klawzax Unit.

Yes, it truly was a brilliant plan-not to mention foolproof, so the red-furred Mobian thought. But sometimes, even one's intuition can be wrong.

However, Scarlett was sure she'd get Blaire this time. She spoke to the dog, voice dripping with baleful maliciousness; "I've made my decision. But I don't think you'll like it all too much."

The Siberian Husky planted a paw on one hip, the other palm pressing against the wall of a crumbling building. "Oh? And why is that, pray tell?" she inquired, though she had a good guess as to what the answer was-when one had spent years fighting Scarlett, one tended to know how her mind worked.

"It's very simple," the fox answered, letting out a sinister chuckle. In a flash, not a single moment wasted, she swung her longsword…

Only to slice at thin air.

Eyes wide in surprise, Scarlett chanced to look down. She could see Blaire lying on her stomach, a smug grin on her lavender-furred muzzle.

"Now Scarlett, did you really think that I wouldn't anticipate an attack from you?"

Like chili being shimmered several degrees higher then what would be needed, the fox's ire began to boil-it took all her will power to prevent herself from exploding into a fit of pure rage. "Blaire," she spoke, struggling to keep the anger out of her voice. "Why don't you come just a little closer?"

"_Gladly._"

That sword was upon the vixen before she knew it. Skin broke and veins were severed as the Sapphire Blade connected with her chest. Cringing as pain coursed through her body, the fox backed up…

_Bang!_

A bullet, discharged from Fern's gun, whizzed above Scarlett's head. The projectile collided with the already cracked glass of a window, sending razor sharp shards towards the fox. Scarlett ducked just before a couple of large pieces pierced the area between her eyes.

However…

_Wham!_

It seemed as though the glass was the only thing holding up a set of bricks. Why there was no pane inbetween was anyone's guess. On thing was clear though; without anything to hold them up, the bricks could just tumble down.

And they did-right on Scarlett's head.

White flashed before the fox's emerald eyes, as her knees buckled underneath her. The vulpine swayed back and forth, looking rather dazed and confused. Finally, she slammed into the ground, her nose hitting the asphalt first.

"Now's our chance," Fern said, not terribly urgent in her suggestion, though she clearly understood the danger in staying too long.

Chester spoke up; "But what about-"

While it was virtually impossible for Mobians to read minds, Fern had a pretty good idea what the Alpine Chipmunk was asking about. So, with a wink and a smirk, the Sea Otter produced from her vest pocket the GPS system.

"May I assume that this is what you were talking about?" Fern inquired, waving the device about.

"Wow," Chester muttered, his eyes wide in amazement. "I didn't think any of us would have found that thing that quickly."

Fern raised an eyebrow, hands planted firmly on her hips. "Oh really?"

Chester was about to say something in his defense, when Blaire cut in;

"That's all well and good Fern," the canine stated, a grin on her muzzle. "But shouldn't we be getting back to Oakland?"

"And so, we gather here today, to bid farewell to a loyal Freedom Fighter, and a good friend…"

There was a somber mood in the air that afternoon, as Oakland Resistance Division Agent Meryl Hefree was laid to rest. Mobians from all corners of the village came to say their final goodbyes to the young coyote.

The funeral took place in a picturesque meadow. Emerald green grass swayed lightly in the breeze, as if the spirits of past fallen agents were also mourning the loss of Meryl. Those in the realm of the living stood around her coffin, heads bowed in solemn respect. Teardrops fell from the eyes of many Mobians, hitting the grass ever so softly.

Blaire managed to keep her eyes dry during the service-however, she did nothing to hide the feeling of grief she felt. While she never knew Meryl all that well, that did not stop her from feeling the same sense of comradeship with the coyote as those that knew he better.

For at the end of the day, they were all members of the Resistance, each part of the crusade. The crusade…for freedom.


End file.
